Why Us?
by Enednilwen
Summary: COMPLETE Back by request. Unable to find peace in death, Boromir is back to complete something, though he has yet to find out what it is. His progress is slowed by the arrival of Steph. How far can they get without killing each other?
1. Alive

A/N: Yes, it's the third and last installment of the Steph/Boromir tales. If you're new to it, you may want to read Why You (the first) and Why Me (the second). If you're a veteran, then welcome back, and thanks a bundle for keeping up with this story! I hadn't planned on writing a third, but I was flooded with so many reviews for one, I couldn't say no! Just about everyone suggested Why Us, so that's what I've named it.  
  
With every chapter I write I've got all three books next to me, and I'm striving to keep it as true as possible...except the part where he lives on. ^.^ I apologize for any mistakes, I spent an hour trying to read those tiny maps in the front of the books, deciding where they were and which way they were going.  
  
If any of you are interested, I made a doll of Steph. She's on my website on the front page and the Fanfiction page. I've also got my blog up now, so if you're *really* bored, go read what I was thinking. ^_^  
  
Enjoy it, and please review!  
  
Enednilwen*  
  
Disclaimer: I own Steph...and I don't own Boromir. Was that so hard?  
  
~~~~~~~~  
  
**Chapter 1**  
  
Fifth period. The most boring period in the 11th grade. Steph sat at the cramped two-person desk next to her best friend, Sara. It was dark in the room, and a boring video about 'the Life Cycle of a Brazilian Fruit Fly' was putting her to sleep. She quietly rested her head on her arms, tilting her head so the teacher couldn't see her closed eyes. After a while, she was asleep.  
  
Sara looked up from taking notes, worry lines crinkling in her forehead. "Stephanie!" she hissed quietly, trying to avoid drawing attention, "Wake up!"  
  
The blonde helped herself to one of Sara's clean sheets of paper. In blue ink she wrote:  
  
Sleep=wasted time  
  
Class=wasted time  
  
Therefore, sleep=class  
  
Sleep=happy  
  
Happy=good  
  
Get it? Good.  
  
She shoved the paper at Sara, then resumed her nap. Sara's eyes traced over it. The worry lines between her eyebrows deepened, and she gave an irritated snort. Returning to her notes, she decided to let Steph copy her notes after class. Besides, Steph had paid for her lunch on Tuesday.  
  
Steph heard the snort, and smiled. Sighing contentedly, she fell asleep. As soon as the last of her thoughts blended into darkness, she felt hot and cold all at once. When it ended, she was facedown in something, though she was too scared to look.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Sara turned around in surprise when she heard a loud snapping sound coming from behind her. She turned to where Steph was sitting, and gasped loudly.  
  
"Mr. Miller!!" she shrieked frantically, drawing more attention than she ever wanted to their last row last chair seat, "Stephanie has disappeared!!"  
  
The fat blonde boy in front of her goggled at the empty chair, as if an alien was sitting there. "What'd you do with her?"  
  
The class has surrounded the semi-singed spot where Steph had been. Mr. Miller pushed his way through the class and ordered the fat blonde boy to go get the principal.  
  
Sara was horrorstruck for a moment, before she noticed something. Steph's purse was gone, and there were singe marks where her feet had been. Where had she seen that before?  
  
The memory hit her like a truck. The summer before. The Fellowship. When they had disappeared they had left faint singe marks where their feet had been. She gasped again. Could that mean...? But why?  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Steph couldn't stand it anymore. After nearly three seconds of keeping her eyes closed, she was driving herself mad. She forced her eyes open. A scream caught in her throat. She was in a boat. Not just any boat. A *funeral* boat. And it wasn't just anyone's funeral boat, it was Boromir's.  
  
She tumbled backwards in disgust and fear, almost toppling into the water. The suppressed scream in her throat was let loose as the body made a choking noise and moved.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Boromir was so close to the end of the tunnel. The light seemed to call to him, as if whatever it led to would surpass his wildest dreams. As he came near enough to touch it, a voice whispered to him. Boromir had lost all cares of time, but he still felt that the voice had spoken to him long ago. That is, if he still understood what long ago was. "Touch it."  
  
"I'm afraid." He said quietly, his once eager fingers feeling hesitant.  
  
"Of what?"  
  
He answered with another question. "What is behind it?"  
  
"It was not time for you to leave. Touch it."  
  
"That's not possible." He said defiantly, feeling slightly afraid to be fighting with a disembodied voice, "I was meant to die. I could feel it."  
  
"It does not matter what you feel." The voice said, "Touch it now."  
  
Boromir frowned, still hesitating.  
  
"Touch it." The voice repeated, in a firmer tone.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he touched it. The white light was around him again, making him blind and deaf to everything around him. Then, like a child being born, he emerged from the state and into the sunshine.  
  
He choked on the air that flowed into his lungs, and for a split second he thought he had forgotten how to breathe. He inhaled sharply through his mouth and blinked his eyes to clear his vision.  
  
A sharp scream pierced his ears.  
  
"AUGH!!!! ZOMBIE!!!" something heavy slammed against his face, making him fall back. The blows were repeated on his arms and chest. He shielded his face from the merciless blows.  
  
"How do you kill a zombie?? HOW THE HELL DO YOU KILL A ZOMBIE??" Steph shouted, hitting the zombie with her purse. Scenes from the Resident Evil movie flashed in her mind. "I don't have a damn gun!!" she moaned as she resumed hitting the zombie. "DIE ZOMBIE!! DIE!!"  
  
She paused to see if she had succeeded in killing it. It blinked angrily at her. Then it screamed.  
  
"NOOOO!!! BY THE VALAR, WHY ARE YOU HERE??"  
  
She screamed.  
  
Boromir tore the purse from her hands. "You are by far the last person I wish to see right now!" he bellowed, his newly awaken blood pumping through his veins.  
  
"You're supposed to be dead!!" Steph shrieked, inching away from him, a wild look on her face.  
  
"You're supposed to be in your own world!"  
  
She stopped backing up. "No!!" the word slid from a moan to a shrieking howl, until it became so loud Boromir covered his ears.  
  
"Stop that racket, woman! What's wrong with you??"  
  
She was in tears now, her chin quivering. "I'm here again! I'm here in blasted Middle Earth, with...YOU! I thought I was done with this!!"  
  
She tilted her head back and howled 'Nooooo!' again.  
  
Boromir stretched his stiff arm muscles. Being dead for a few days can make them rather stiff. "I would think you would be happy to see me again." He grunted, grimacing at the noise she was causing. He hoped no orcs were near.  
  
Irritably, she brushed the tears away. "Ok, number one, YOU'RE DEAD. Number two, YOUR FRIENDS PUSHED YOU OFF A FRICKIN WATERFALL, and number three, I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE AGAIN."  
  
Boromir rolled his eyes and stiffly took oars in each hand. "At least you're decently dressed this time." He grumbled, fighting against the harsh current to get to shore. He was still weak, and it took a lot of effort to get the two across.  
  
They made it eventually, and Boromir tumbled out of the boat, panting. Steph dragged him to a tree, and propped him up against it.  
  
"I guess dying takes a bit oughta you, huh?" she asked, her hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back.  
  
Boromir nodded, his breathing coming back to normal. "What is a zombie?"  
  
"Living dead, Boredom." She quipped, sitting in the sand, glaring at nothing.  
  
Boromir sneered at the nickname. Of all the things that could happen to him! Annoying memories were tugging at the back of his mind, of times where they had actually been nice to each other. He pushed them irritably aside and tried to sort everything out.  
  
He was alive.  
  
Steph was here.  
  
He was so angry that he felt like screaming. He was obviously sent back for a purpose, though he didn't know what it was...yet. It was obviously important, and now the same 'thing' that brought Steph to him when she was 14 and brought him to her when she was 16 was at it again. He could only imagine how many things could happen with Steph with him.  
  
She had no fighting skills, save verbally, she was a *woman*, and she probably couldn't keep up. He put his head in his hands. He was doomed. Doomed...the word echoed in his mind, taunting him.  
  
Steph looked over at him. She was positive that her anger juices were cooking her organs. All the days she had wondered about him and wished she could have said a decent goodbye were gone. She was in Middle Earth. AGAIN. She was completely dependent on Boromir. AGAIN. She was a weakling who served only as luggage to be carted around by someone, most likely Boromir, until whoever thought it was fun to do this to her sent her home. AGAIN.  
  
She ground her knuckles into her forehead, furious. This was the last place she wanted to be. Tramping through the woods, Boromir bossing her around, blood, dead things...why her?  
  
Better yet, why him? Why was he alive again? Then there was the question again; why her? It would have been great if he was alive again, but geez, did 'they' have to drag her into it? AGAIN?  
  
Sighing, she traced in the sand, trying to decide whether or not to drown herself right away. She was totally screwed.  
  
Boromir was feeling physically better, and watched as she traced lines. As if coming back to life hadn't been hard enough, and then with the fact that he had to complete something, Steph was with him.  
  
Steph obviously felt his piercing stare, and raised her eyes to meet his.  
  
The two locked eyes, and an old fire stirred within both of them.  
  
They glared. 


	2. Fighting

A/N: Wow! So many reviews! Twenty-five already!! Thanks a lot, I feel like such a celebrity! When I signed onto AOL and saw all my reviews, I was thrilled. THANK-YOU SO MUCH! ^_^  
  
To answer a few questions:  
  
(I'm sorry I can't remember the reviewer who asked this, as I write all my chapters on my laptop, and my e-mail account is on our main computer): You asked how old Steph is. The fictional Steph is 17.  
  
Samus: You asked why they were acting this way to each other. First off, let me say that I'm glad to see you again. Your reviews are always very practical, and keep me on my toes. ^.^  
  
Anyway, back to your question. Think of it this way; Steph is dragged into Middle Earth against her will and is again being seen as the weak piece of luggage Boromir treats her like (most of the time anyway). Boromir is trying to complete something that is obviously of great importance, and now he has to care for a 17-year-old.  
  
I'm keeping the friendship thoughts in mind, and they will be coming back. But I also wanted to bring back some of the 'at each other's throats' things. They're fun to write, and besides, I seriously doubt that these two could continue being friends when the thought of "I'm never going to see the other again" isn't in their minds all the time. It goes against the laws of nature!  
  
By the way, thanks for the comment on the doll. ^_^  
  
Ai, I started rambling. On to the chapter!  
  
Disclaimer: Steph is mine and Borry-mere isn't. *wipes brow* Ai, that was hard, wasn't it?  
  
**Chapter 2**  
  
The two held each other's eyes in a steady glare for a while, before looking away.  
  
Steph laid on her back on the sandy ground, glaring at the pale blue sky. "I hate you." She said to whoever had brought her back.  
  
Boromir grimaced. "Why?"  
  
"I wasn't talking to you, assclown." She snapped, still staring at the cheerful sky. She hated that sky. Too cheerful.  
  
Boromir snorted and resumed taking off his tunic to inspect his wounds. He knew he had been wounded many times, and had just noticed that the arrows that protruded from him until he resembled a hedgehog were gone. He assumed the remaining Fellowship that had prepared his funeral boat also removed the arrows.  
  
Carefully, he eased the dirty tunic off his shoulders. The places where the arrows had been were still tender to the touch, as if he had been wounded only a few days before.  
  
There were brown scars in the places where the arrows had been, contrasting with the paleness of his skin. He carefully prodded a scar, only to bite back a cry of pain. "A foolish thing to do." He mumbled to himself, pulling his tunic back on.  
  
Steph was still lying on her back in the sand, her eyes closed. The bag she had attacked him with was on her stomach, rising and falling with every breath. He smiled as he inhaled a breath of clean, fresh air. It had seemed a long time since he had last thought of breathing. He was not sure how long it had been, because before now he had thought it eons since he had been alive.  
  
He leaned against the tree again. How long had he been dead? Maybe a few hours? Days? Weeks? Months? Centuries? He had no idea. There seemed to be no time in that long journey toward the light. Only the deep longing to reach the light, to touch it, embrace it, to *be* the light. He closed his eyes, trying to recall the feeling he had received from being near it.  
  
There was only a wisp of it left, like the wisp of a dream just out of reach. He sighed and opened his eyes, looking at Steph. She was still on her back, breathing. Just beyond her was the boat, which reminded him that the rest of his belongings were in there. They needed to get going, not just sit there thinking about silly things like..breathing!  
  
Boromir pulled himself shakily to his feet, hanging on the tree for support. Everything was spinning and twisting together, and he had to close his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his head pounded and his pulse resounded in his ears, the edges of everything in his sight flickering with every beat of his heart.  
  
'At least I am alive.' He thought, taking a few unsteady steps.  
  
"What's wrong with you Boredom?" Steph quipped, raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
"It seems," he said wearily, "that dying does not heal all wounds."  
  
"You would think not." Steph snorted, standing up and brushing sand off herself.  
  
"I am stronger than when I departed this life, but not much."  
  
Steph glared at the sky again. "This is a total rip!" she yelled at the fluffy white clouds, "You bring him back, then you bring me back, and he's not even better yet?? What kind of shit is this??"  
  
There was no reply, but Steph really didn't expect one. She was the angriest she ever had been before, and if her organs weren't already deep- fried in anger juices, they sure as hell were now.  
  
Boromir found that the Elven boat was quite light, and even being as weak as he was, he could still carry it from the shore. He set it down beside Steph, and took a few deep breaths to steady himself.  
  
"We should look through it. Perhaps they overlooked a wafer of lembas."  
  
Kneeling beside, he carefully sifted through everything. He was pleased to see that his cloak and hood had been buried with him, though the sight of his sword darkened his spirits. All that was left was a broken hilt and shards.  
  
Steph joined him after a while, her arms crossed irritably. She had been trying for the last ten minutes to force herself to be nice to Boromir. The annoying mother voice in her brain kept telling her to remember how sad she was he left, and the times they had been nice to each other. These thoughts were soon silenced when her rumbling stomach reminded her that she was hungry in Middle Earth again.  
  
Boromir hunched over the boat, his head in his hands. Steph noticed he still had the ribbon she had given him. Her face softened slightly, as she wondered what it had seen.  
  
"You know," she said, trying to make small talk, "you left your gauntlet in my room. I found it in the corner."  
  
He didn't look up. "I am glad to know what became of it." His voice was muffled by his hands, which cradled his head. He was trying to decide if he could force himself to kill Steph. It would be horrible, but it would relieve the burden.  
  
Peeking at her through his fingers, he knew he couldn't. He was going to have to keep both of them alive as long as possible. There was a reason he had been sent back, and he was going to fulfill whatever it was.  
  
"It seems that fate is not shining kindly upon us." He said, looking mournfully at the broken sword. He couldn't bring himself to look at Steph. The sight of her made him remember that he had thought of murdering her, which made him feel as though he was worse than an orc.  
  
'I seem to be doing many things wrong in this life and the last.' He thought to himself. What was he becoming?  
  
Steph was annoyed that he had ignored her question. "Do you have a plan yet?" she asked again, this time a little louder.  
  
Boromir looked up at her voice, and shook his head. "I do not know if we are even in the same time as when I left, Steph." He sighed, "It matters not, my sword is broken and useless."  
  
Steph snorted. "Don't you have any problem solving skills?" she asked irritably, running a hand through her wind beaten hair, "I just remembered that Sara's 'Two Towers' book was by me when I fell asleep. I'm guessing that's why I'm here." She made a quick mental note to put all Lord of the Rings books in another room before she went to sleep. "Second, you've got swords." She swept her hand over the orc weapons.  
  
Boromir made a face. "Use orc weapons?" he spat, giving Steph and the weapons a look of distaste, "Never!"  
  
She angrily kicked at the sand. "Dammit Boromir, we'll die if you don't have some kind of weapon! We can't just sit here and wait to die, we've got to at least help ourselves!"  
  
He leapt to his feet. "What do you know of this?" he snarled, "You are nothing but a silly little girl that I am forced to take care of!" he ripped the ribbon off his arm and flung it at her. "A curse upon you!"  
  
"Yeah?" Steph yelled back just as loudly, "Screw you too, asshole!" she ground the ribbon into the dirt. With each twist of her foot she could only think of how much she hated him, Middle Earth, and her whole damn life.  
  
Boromir's face was still red with fury, but he forced himself to act civilized for a moment.  
  
"You know the story. Where do you think we should go?"  
  
Steph turned a bony shoulder to him, but still answered. "The Fellowship is going to Rohan."  
  
Boromir sighed. He had hoped to return to Minas Tirith, but he wanted to follow the Fellowship and help. He had failed the Fellowship once, and he wanted to make up for it.  
  
Steph had hinted before that her world had a superior knowledge of Middle Earth. Boromir suspected that they taught their children early in life about Middle Earth, though it still puzzled him that Steph had been so shocked to find herself in a place she knew about. He had shrugged off the thought long ago, accepting that they might think it to be fantasy.  
  
He was going to trust that her information was accurate and act on her words. "Do you know what happens after they reach Rohan?"  
  
She nodded stiffly. "I know everything up to 'Return of the King'. Our teacher made us read the first two, we were supposed to be reading the third next month."  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow. "Must you always speak in riddles?"  
  
She glared at him. "Look assclown, do you want to follow the Fellowship or do you want to do your own thing?" she shifted her weight to one hip and put her hand on the other, waiting for his answer. He was getting on her nerves.  
  
"We should follow the Fellowship."  
  
She gave him a 'duh' look. "Well," she said slowly as if she was talking to a first grader, "Then maybe we should follow them! Ever think of that, genius?"  
  
He snorted. "Hold your tongue. I have no patience for your impudence."  
  
Rolling her eyes, she shot him a bird.  
  
He frowned at the unknown gesture before grimacing at the setting sun. "Rohan should be that way." He said, pointing to the west. "We will start in the morning."  
  
Steph gaped at him. "How can you be sure? That might be south for all we know!"  
  
She tuned him out as he went into a long speech about the direction of the river flow and the sun and blah blah blah. He seemed to notice she was ignoring him, because he ended abruptly with a grunt and stalked over to a tree.  
  
"Rest while you can." He said, trying to get comfortable, "It is a long walk to Rohan."  
  
"No shit." 


	3. Starting the Journey

A/N: Thanks for all the spiffy reviews! Wow, I'm already getting so many, and it's only been 2 chapters!  
  
I finally decided where they are at this moment and where they're going. I looked through the LOTR books all during school on Friday, and while I wrote this. I even got out a magnifying glass to see how far Minas Tirith and Rohan were from Emyn Muil! I want to keep this as accurate as possible, and by the end of this fic, I'll probably have read TTT and the appendixes of ROTK so many times I'll be able to quote them from memory!  
  
My brother got a picture of me working on Why Us, so if you're interested, it should be up on my website. Fly website monkeys! Fly! Bwahahaha...Ai, never give me Enya and sweet iced tea while I write fanfiction. It makes me nutty. Enya should make me her Director of Marketing, as I'm obsessed with her music. Many plot bunnies have bitten me while I've listened to Paint the Sky with Stars (the album, not the song). If I can find some of her music to put on my website, I will.  
  
Thanks to everyone for following along with my fic! It means a lot to me! Three people Imed me yesterday while I was working on my website, and I never got back to them. Sorry, I wasn't ignoring you, I'm just an airhead who forgets she's had her away messages on for 3 hours! I'd love to talk to you, please IM me again and I'll be happy to chat! ^_^  
  
Enednilwen*  
  
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Disclaimer: Silly Rabbit, Boromirs are for Tolkien!  
  
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**Chapter 3**  
  
Boromir awoke just as the first rays of the Sun peeked over the horizon. Steph had been sleeping far away from him, her head rested on her bag and her skimpy cloak covering her upper half. He frowned. It was more practical to wear a cloak that didn't end at your waist. The thing she had on was more like a long tunic.  
  
He frowned at the rest of her clothing, thinking it all impractical. He struggled over the words he had learned from her while briefly in her world that described her clothes.  
  
Jeans. Yes, those were defiantly the jeans she had been so fond of wearing. Sara wore them too, and he supposed them to be the fashion of choice for the majority of the population. He deemed them too tight, and he wondered why they flared out at the bottom. What purpose did that serve? Circling around her, he saw that they covered the white shoes she was wearing.  
  
"To keep the mud off, I suppose." He said quietly to himself, not wanting to wake her. He hadn't seen those kinds of shoes before. Steph and her friend, Sara, had always worn shoes without coverings on the back and without anything to cover their toes. They had called them sandals.  
  
He couldn't see her shirt for the cloak she was wearing, but he had seen it earlier. He wondered why her father let her out of the house wearing something that tight. When she raised her arms up enough or turned a certain way, he had caught a glimpse of her navel and part of her stomach. Did all the women dress like this? He couldn't remember.  
  
Being so close to the river, there was dew on everything. Steph's face and exposed arm were covered in beads of moisture, which danced and twinkled in the sun. There was a white mist hovering over the water, so they were protected from ay unfriendly eyes. But for how long?  
  
Boromir walked towards the water, when the blue ribbon caught his eye. He felt a twinge of regret at having thrown it at her and annulling their friendship. Carefully, he picked it up and put it inside his shirt. He had broken it when he ripped it off his arm, but he wanted to keep it.  
  
Looking out across the water, he could see a fish jumping out. His stomach grumbled a reply. The terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach was back. How would they survive? He was weaponless, they had no food, and they were going to walk to Rohan? It was hopeless, just as walking into Mordor to destroy the blasted ring was hopeless.  
  
Why couldn't they have gone through the Gap of Rohan, like planned? Why did the hobbit have to be so stubborn? Why was he destined to die, leaving the Fellowship, and never getting a chance to make up for what he had done? Why was the feeling of betrayal weighing on him so heavily?  
  
He stopped mid thought and unclenched his fists. Maybe that was it. He was supposed to follow the Fellowship and..help them? Was that it?  
  
He stole a glance at Steph, who hadn't moved. Maybe there was a reason she was sent back. Could she really help?  
  
Boromir sat down wearily as the pain from his arrow wounds nipped at him. Though they were healed, they still caused a sharp twinge from time to time, causing him to grab which ever it happened to be and wait for the pain to subside.  
  
All at once, every single wound sharply burned. The pain was overwhelming, and unconsciousness flooded over him like a wave.  
  
"Boromir. Wake up." The soft voice from the tunnel was talking in his ear.  
  
"I am awake." He said groggily, frowning at the blackness around him.  
  
"Why were you so stubborn to fall back to sleep? I was trying to talk to you."  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow. "I was not tired. Where am I?"  
  
The voice laughed quietly. "Do you mean where are you now? Or when you awoke from death, where were you? Which do you mean?"  
  
"I meant both, but I suppose I should ask the second."  
  
It laughed again. "Past the Falls of Rauros."  
  
If his face could have been seen, it would have lit up. "Near Rohan, then?"  
  
"Yes." The voice replied simply. "Travel West."  
  
"How long have I been dead?"  
  
"One."  
  
"One what?"  
  
"One." The voice repeated.  
  
"A last question!" Boromir said quickly, feeling the voice was leaving.  
  
"No more questions.." the voice trailed off, leaving Boromir in total darkness. He blinked his eyes, realizing he had been lying on the sand.  
  
He got up and brushed himself off, looking West. Should he trust the dream?  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by Steph. She groaned as she rolled over, rubbing at the clinging sand and dew.  
  
"This sucks ass." She grumbled, grimacing at the water droplets on her skin.  
  
She brushed past Boromir and drank from the river, rubbing at her teeth with her finger.  
  
"What are you doing?" Boromir asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Was she mad, or was it just him?  
  
"What the hell do you think I'm doing, assclown?" she snapped, spitting off the water that was in her mouth, "I'm stuck in frickin Middle Earth again without a toothbrush! Do you know how many cavities I got from being here last time?"  
  
He shook his head 'no'.  
  
"Six! Six damn cavities! I ain't doin that again!"  
  
He rolled his eyes and took a drink from the river.  
  
"This sucks ass." She repeated, pulling at her shirt to remove the wrinkles.  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Well duh!" she said irritably, "I slept in my clothes, ON THE GROUND, I just brushed my teeth with my finger, and now I have to eat gum for breakfast!"  
  
"Gum?"  
  
"Yes assclown, gum. I bought some from Mike today at lunch."  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow. "Why not bring your own 'gum'?"  
  
"Because we're not supposed to have it at school, idiot. I left mine at home."  
  
"You mean you purposely buy contraband items, and then disregard more rules by eating it?"  
  
Steph snorted. "Looks that way. Want some?"  
  
Boromir took it grudgingly and sat down next to her, staring at the West. "You puzzle me."  
  
"Really?" she quipped sarcastically, "I hadn't noticed."  
  
He didn't like the taste of the gum. It was too sweet, sweeter than honey, and it stuck to his teeth. The taste made his mouth feel sticky and coated. But it was better than nothing, and they really needed to get going.  
  
"Come along." He said at length, "We need to start."  
  
Steph looked up from washing away the raccoon eyes sleeping in eye make up had given her. She got off and followed him to the boat.  
  
"So, what are we doing? Walking and boating?"  
  
"Walking." He answered, putting the broken hilt of his sword in his scabbard. He refused to take an orc weapon. He clasped the gray Elven cloak and hood, touching the brooch and remembering the fair times he spent there. Touching his side sadly, he hoped that the Anduin had carried the horn of Gondor home. He wished the Fellowship had been more careful when they put it in his funeral boat. Broken or no, he still would have liked to have it.  
  
Steph was packing up as well. She had taken off her coat and tied it around her waist. Her purse was under her arm, and the coat served as a makeshift scabbard for the orc knife.  
  
"Put that down!" Boromir ordered, looking with disgust at the orc weapon. "You are no orc! I will not allow you to carry such a thing!"  
  
"Screw you, Middle Earth Monkey!" Steph snapped, tightening the jacket so the knife wouldn't slip anymore. "If you want to kill us both by trying to defend yourself with a broken sword, knock yourself out. I don't care who had this weapon last, I just know that it works." She stalked over to where he was standing.  
  
"Do you even know where we're going?" she asked, shifting her weight to one hip.  
  
"Where is the Fellowship going?"  
  
Steph sighed. "They're going to go save the hobbits. But the Rohan dudes will get there first, so they'll go to see Eewyn and Theeden instead."  
  
"Éowyn and Théoden." Boromir corrected. "They are going to Edoras then?"  
  
She snorted. "You think I actually listened? I read the book, but I hardly remember any of it. That's what happened in the movie."  
  
Boromir looked upwards in thought. "From here, it should take us 5 days to reach Edoras."  
  
Steph was drawing circles in the sand with her foot. "Takes the Fellowship a week."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"Sara told me when she was on one of her 'I'm-a-Lord-of-the-Rings-obsessed- fangirl' days. She was saying how hard it must have been for them to run for a week from Emma Mool-"  
  
"Emyn Muil." He corrected.  
  
"Whatever! Emma Mool to Eddy's rash. I just looked at her funny."  
  
"Edoras, Steph, it's EDORAS." He moaned, holding his head. She shot him a death glare, but said nothing.  
  
"We should have started." He grumbled, pressing the gum against the front of his teeth. He motioned for her to follow. He usually blew a note on the horn before embarking on any journey, and it pained him to not be able to do it now. Still, he must press on. Time was wasting away.  
  
"Come," he said over his shoulder, "we have a long journey ahead of us."  
  
"No, really?" Steph said sarcastically, following him, "I thought we were going on a picnic!" blowing a bubble with her gum, she started on the journey, dreading every step. 


	4. Walking

A/N: I spent 45 minutes making up a timeline today, so go me! It goes from the time Boromir dies up until the time Gandalf reaches Minas Tirith, so I think I'm all set. It took forever to make, because I kept having to go back and change things and got three of the dates mixed up...but at least it's done! ^_^  
  
This chapter was inspired by my time in North Carolina (if you read WM, you'll remember that I wrote one of my chapters while I was there) when my dad dragged us off to see a waterfall. You had to climb up the mountain and then down it, and through woods and..well, it was icky. The waterfall was beautiful, but the whole time I was walking, I was thinking, "This is what Steph must have felt like." Anyway, thank-you Blue Ridge Mountains for the inspiration.  
  
Thanks for the reviews!! I've been so lucky to have so many readers and nice reviewers! I've had a bunch of people asking me about what I've got planned after I finish up this fic. Because I'm tired of answering the same question over and over, here's the answer: Yes, I already have about 5 fics in the making, and I plan on starting them after I finish Why Us. I would post them now, but it takes me an hour or more to write a 7-page chapter, and if I have a bunch of fics going I'll end up neglecting one. I get annoyed with myself for not updating everyday, think how crazy I'd be if I had 3 stories that weren't updated everyday! I'm a perfectionist, so sue me.  
  
Ciao and thanks for reading,  
  
Enednilwen*  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
Silly Rabbit, Stephs are for Enednilwen!  
  
~-~-~-~-~-~  
  
**Chapter 4**  
  
Two days. It had been the longest two days of Steph's life; walking, climbing, running, tripping. She was horribly hungry, as the two of them had been surviving off her gum, half a Nutra Grain bar (which they finished that morning) and some wild berries Boromir had found.  
  
They were tangy and sweet, and stained the tongue purple. They were the same berries Boromir had used to dye Steph's face.  
  
Even with the berries, it was barely enough, and they woke up with hunger pains and went to sleep with worse ones. Both wondered how long they would be able to survive like that. Boromir was pushing both of them very hard, but without adequate food, they wouldn't get very far.  
  
They had been quiet for most of the trip, and even Steph didn't complain all that much. She trudged along after Boromir, shoulders hunched and eyes on the ground, trying not to think of food.  
  
Boromir strode through the mess of trees and bushes as if it was nothing, but Steph stumbled down the rocky path, tripping over the gnarled roots of trees that acted like uneven stairs. Dead trees and branches stuck out at odd angles, like natural speed bumps. The land was rocky and uneven, and at some points it went down sharply, so it was almost like walking vertically!  
  
Boromir hopped over a small ledge and kept going, figuring Steph could get by on her own. The ledge was a 4 foot drop. The root that made up the top of it was as thick as Boromir's waist, and a massive dirt wall made up the rest. Steph ogled at it. Was he nuts?  
  
"Boromir!"  
  
He turned around. "What is it?"  
  
"Help!!"  
  
Rolling his eyes, he walked back to the bottom of the ledge. "What is it? Come down now, we must keep going!"  
  
Steph snorted. "You moron! If I could get down, why would I be asking for your help?"  
  
Boromir narrowed his eyes at her. "Hold onto that branch." He instructed, pointing to the branch jutting out like a handle from the huge tree, "Use it as support as you climb down."  
  
Warily, Steph held onto the branch and put one unsure foot on the crumbling dirt. She shifted her weight to her left foot and let go of the tree, her right hand still holding the branch. As she set her right foot down, she lost her footing. Instinctively, her left hand shot up to grab the branch.  
  
"A little help please?" she said, a hint of fear in her voice. Boromir reached up and took her by the waist. He gave a tug, but she wouldn't let go.  
  
"Steph, let go."  
  
"You promise you won't drop me?"  
  
"I promise, now let go."  
  
"You *promise*?"  
  
"Yes, by the Valar, woman, do as I say!"  
  
Steph let go, falling into his arms. Her look was less than pleasant, but she was happy to be on the ground.  
  
"Erm..." she scratched the back of her neck absentmindedly. "Thanks for that."  
  
He smiled and continued walking.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Question!"  
  
Boromir sighed. "What?"  
  
"Can I sing?"  
  
"What are you singing?"  
  
"My song, retard."  
  
He sighed again. "If you must."  
  
Clearing her throat, Steph sang a scale. "OK, all ready."  
  
"I hate Middle Earth!  
  
It is an asshole!  
  
Especially this place!  
  
I hate it the most!"  
  
Boromir turned around to look at her. "How do you manage to come up with these things?"  
  
She shrugged. "Dunno. One more time! You know the words!"  
  
"I hate Middle Earth!  
  
It is an asshole!  
  
Especially this place!  
  
I hate it the most!"  
  
Rolling his eyes, he paused to survey the landscape. The mountainous land was fading into hilly, rocky, grassland. They were nearing Rohan.  
  
"We are nearing Rohan." He said, interrupting her song, "See how the land is becoming less mountainous?"  
  
Steph nodded, tugging at the coat around her waist. "What'll we do when we get to Edoras?"  
  
"I was hoping you could tell me."  
  
"Me?" she asked raising a brow, "Why me? Why should I know?"  
  
"You know the story, of course." He said, folding his arms across his chest.  
  
Steph smiled, suddenly remembering the fact. "Ah! Of course!"  
  
There was a pause. "Eh..." Steph laughed nervously. "Am I supposed to say something?"  
  
Boromir sighed. "I was waiting for you to tell me what will be happening at Edoras."  
  
"Oh, at Eddy's Rash?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. He had upbraided her more than once for saying it wrong, but she didn't pay him much attention. He could tell her a million times that it was Edoras, but she would say Eddy's Rash as long as it still pissed him off.  
  
"Edoras, Steph, can't you give the city any respect?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." She said, waving him off. "Eemer will-"  
  
"Éomer!"  
  
"I know his name assmunch! Stop interrupting!"  
  
Boromir wrinkled his nose at the new insult, but let her continue. He had the nagging feeling that she said their names wrong to spite him.  
  
"As I was saying! *Éomer* will meet up with the Fellowship people and they'll all go to Eddy's..." she caught the glare he was sending her, "- Edoras, and they'll have this big long talk, and then all the men will go to-"  
  
He held up his hand. "Enough! Speak no more, I know all I need at the moment."  
  
Steph wasn't listening anymore. She pointed to one of the thin trees behind Boromir. "Look!"  
  
He turned. "What?"  
  
"Eggs!" she said happily, "in that nest!"  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Steph had to stand on Boromir shoulders to reach the eggs, but she didn't really mind. Soon four brown eggs were in her hand, and both travelers were smiling happily at them.  
  
"Well," Steph said, "How do we eat them?"  
  
"You break them, of course." Boromir said, taking two for himself. The eggs were the size of one of Steph's thumbs, and though they weren't much, paired with some of the berries Boromir had found, they made a 'lunch'.  
  
Boromir broke one of them between his fingers, and ate it raw. He ate a handful of berries afterwards, smiling at the taste.  
  
Steph, on the other hand, almost threw up. 


	5. A Day on the Plains

A/N: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I checked them at school, and I cheered when I saw how many I had. The girls next to me (who were discussing the cute boy across the room) stopped their conversation and stared. I need to be quieter when I get my reviews..  
  
I had to laugh when I read all of them. There were a myriad of reactions to the egg incident. Sorry if it grossed you out, my dad did a Special Training thing in the Army where they had to survive out in the wild. After asking him a few questions about how he and his troop managed to survive, I asked him what he ate. I pulled a very weird face when he mentioned bird eggs. My face looked even weirder when he said they ate them raw. When I questioned him about being worried about getting sick from it, he merely raised his eyebrow and smiled.  
  
"When you're that hungry, you don't think about things like that."  
  
Humph. I think I'll pass on the bird eggs. Sorry if I grossed you out, but as I wrote the chapter, I decided to throw it in for a laugh. Bwahaha, so evil.  
  
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Disclaimer: I don't own Boromir, Silly Rabbit.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
**Chapter 5**  
  
Three days after the egg incident, Steph and Boromir sat beside the small fire; eating the creature Boromir had caught a few days before.  
  
As they walked, he had stopped suddenly, listening. He motioned for Steph to hand him her orc knife, and though he grimaced when it touched him, he crept toward a patch of grass stealthily.  
  
Then, springing like a cat, he leapt upon something in the bush, stabbing at it. Laughing triumphantly, he held up the bloody carcass of something furry.  
  
Steph had cringed at the sight of it, but after eating breath mints and berries for the last few days, she forgot that she was vegan and ate the entire portion Boromir gave her.  
  
He had noticed this, expecting her to carry on about being a veg...vegtab...whatever she was, and refusing to eat it. She had grown quieter, her insults dwindling to short, 'Whatevers' and 'Shut ups'. Her face was growing lean, dark circles forming under her eyes. When she spoke, it was usually to ask if they were any closer to Edoras.  
  
He had studied her as he cooked the woodland creature in the fire. She ate her entire portion quickly, before nodding a goodnight and trying to fall asleep. The rabbit had been a blessing, and the dried meat would give them enough strength to walk a few more days.  
  
That had been two days before, and now the two sat across from each other, thinking. Steph was looking better since the rabbit, and her fire was back. Just that morning she had asked if Boromir would ever take a bath.  
  
"Yo, Boredom." She said, breaking his thoughts.  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"How much farther to Eddy's Rash?"  
  
"A day or so, I believe."  
  
She frowned. "How long have we been traveling?"  
  
He counted on his fingers. "Five days."  
  
"Then how many days does it take to get to Edoras?"  
  
"Six days."  
  
"So we're a day away?" she asked, her voice rising with excitement.  
  
He nodded solemnly. "That is correct."  
  
She let out a whoop of joy. "So, we won't have to eat 'unknown-once-furry- animal-surprise' anymore?"  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow, but nodded.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The silence of the plains was making Steph's ears ring. Maybe it was hunger that was making her ears ring. Steph really didn't care. Her throat was sore from singing, which she had been doing since after breakfast. She couldn't stand silence, and if Boromir wouldn't break it by having a conversation, she would break it by singing.  
  
She belted out every song that came to mind, and she had lost count as 23. Boromir was far ahead of her now. Steph had noticed his quickened pace as she started in on number 19. She didn't mind much, because she never could keep up with him anyway. She could clearly remember their first journey together when he had been so far he was often a speck on the horizon. Taking a deep breath, she puffed along, trying to get a foothold on the rocky plains. Maybe she could beg a break when she caught up with him.  
  
Boromir paused to watch Steph scan the plains, obviously looking for him. Upon seeing him, she squared her shoulders and started walking again. Looking up at the sun, he recognized it as mid morning. He enjoyed the silence the plains gave him.  
  
Being ahead of Steph allowed him escape from her singing. He couldn't think straight when she was singing nonsense in his ear. When he had turned around and asked her to be quiet, she had told him to "Stuff it" and sang louder.  
  
After snapping, "Keep a civil tongue in your head!" he had stalked ahead, leaving her and her nonsense behind. He could hear her running behind him now, trying to catch up.  
  
"Boromir! Can we take a break, please?" she asked, halting between words to catch her breath.  
  
He had been hoping she would ask, as he didn't want to appear weak. Every time they stopped he always made it seem as if he was just doing it to help her.  
  
Nodding that they would rest, he casually leaned against a large rock, surveying the plain. Far ahead were the mountains of the South, tipped with white. The late winter wind had lost some of its bite, but as it whipped around the two silent travelers, both shivered.  
  
Steph craned her neck to see what Boromir was looking at. She lifted her head from its resting place on her knees and leaned toward him. Seeing nothing interesting, she hugged her knees closer, blocking the cold wind.  
  
"Oi, question." She said, unable to stand the silence.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What will we do when we get to Edoras?"  
  
Boromir blinked at her in surprise, having suspected a snappy remark. He had to take a moment to think, as he hadn't thought that far ahead. "We will follow the Fellowship, I suppose."  
  
Steph nodded quietly, pulling at a loose string on her shirt. "Will we get a horse in Edoras?" she asked at length, her voice giving no hint to if she wanted to ride a horse or not.  
  
"Perhaps." Boromir said thoughtfully, thinking of the benefits of having a horse. He was about to say something else when one of his arrow wounds burned sharply, as if the phantom arrow had been wrenched out of him. He gasped in pain, clutching his stomach.  
  
"Good Lord, what did you do to yourself?" Steph shrieked, jumping up in surprise.  
  
"It is nothing." He said through gritted teeth, as smaller waves of pain throbbed through his body, "The arrow wounds pain me at times."  
  
Steph looked at him quizzically. "Pain you?" she asked, a hint of sarcasm in her voice, "Last time I looked, you didn't have any arrows in you."  
  
"I know that!" He snapped, angry that she was treating him like a fool, "It feels as if they are still there, and they pain me."  
  
She made a sound that resembled a snort and a sigh, and studied him. "You do realize how freaky you look when you do that, don't you?"  
  
"Do what?" he growled irritably. The pain had put him in an ill mood, and not even the pale winter sunshine could comfort him.  
  
"When you make your face look like that."  
  
Scowling, he turned away from her. "We have lingered here long enough." He announced, "We should continue on." He started into a jogging run, leaving her behind.  
  
Steph followed him, running fast to keep up.  
  
"I have another question." She said as the two jogged, keeping their eyes down to watch out for rocks.  
  
"Yes?" he said, slightly irritated that she was breaking into his thoughts again.  
  
"Why do you think people always get the impression that you're an asshole?"  
  
He glared at her. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Well," she said, looking at the partly cloudy sky, "it seems like in every fanfic I read, everyone portrays you as the chauvinistic jerk with no social graces."  
  
He opened his mouth to protest, but Steph raised her hand for silence. "Don't prove it by interrupting, assclown."  
  
He quieted, slowing down so they could talk without gasping for breath.  
  
"Plus, you're always getting beaten up by Mary Sues."  
  
He furrowed his eyebrows in indignation. "I am an accomplished warrior. I doubt that 'Mary Sue' could thwart me."  
  
Steph snorted with laughter. "You know what the worst part is?"  
  
Still scowling, he shook his head.  
  
"They're usually teenagers with no fighting experience. Some of those authors just seem to enjoy kicking your ass."  
  
Boromir shot her a death glare, making her snickers become louder. "I'd pay big money to see you getting your ass kicked by some 5'2 bimbo. I mean, I could fight verbally with you, but I couldn't give you a black eye or something. Well, not if I was trying."  
  
This earned her a second glare. He snorted loudly and tried to turn his full attention to the mountains that were getting closer.  
  
"Not much farther now." He muttered, keeping his eyes away from Steph.  
  
"You're changing the subject, Borry-mere."  
  
"Don't call me that." He snapped, forcing himself not to glare at her.  
  
Steph smiled innocently. "Don't call you what?"  
  
Ignoring her, he walked faster, trying to put some distance between them before she drove him mad. Behind him, he could hear her singing that idiotic song about a 'cowboy'.  
  
"By Eru, Steph, what are you singing about now?" he snapped over his shoulder.  
  
"Cowboys, dumbass!" she called back, making an effort to catch up with him.  
  
"What is a cowboy?" he yelled, irritated with himself for playing into her trap.  
  
"What do you think it is?" she laughed, coming up alongside him. "Three guesses!"  
  
He paused, watching as she ran past him. He could only hope Edoras was close.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
A/N: Sorry, bit of writer's block this week. These standardized tests suck out all my brain juices. Chapter 6 may be a little late, because I'd rather post late than do a half ass job, lol.  
  
The rabbit thing was based on something my dad told me about..some guy in his troop had a knife. Eww, I don't think I'd eat that, no matter how hungry I was.  
  
Thanks for reading all the same!  
  
-v-  
  
Enednilwen* 


	6. To Edoras

A/N: Three hours to write this! I couldn't decide what I wanted to happen, and I spent all day chewing on my pen and scribbling down ideas! Well, it's finally done, and I had a good time writing it. The story is really coming along! As I was coming up with ideas for this chapter a few plot bunnies bit me, and then I started thinking about the next chapter. How annoying, because I had to start planning that out before I even got to start on Chapter 6! Anyway, I've got a lot of great ideas for upcoming chapters and what I want to happen.  
  
Thanks for the reviews! I apologize if you asked me a question and I haven't answered it, I know a few people have. I'm so ditzy sometimes, I forget who asked me what and when, so if you've got something on your mind, feel free to EM/IM me. ^_^  
  
I'm on Spring Break, so that means I have more time to write and think! Yee- aay-ee!  
  
Ciao!  
  
Enednilwen*  
  
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Disclaimer: Boromir isn't mine, but thanks to Tolkien for letting me mess with him!  
  
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**Chapter 6**  
  
With each footstep, Steph was reminded that she was still alive, at least for one more second. Never in her life had she run like this. The rest they had taken seemed such a long time ago, such a distant memory. A little while after the rest, Boromir had been struck with a fierce urgency to get to Edoras, as though his life depended on it.  
  
"We must press on," his words echoed in her sleep deprived mind, "We cannot afford to come late."  
  
It was dark now; they had been running for miles. Boromir wasn't even waiting for her anymore. If she lagged behind, he would run back and drag her along until her indignation and anger revived her wits and she was able to run alone.  
  
Steph was nearly asleep on her feet, stumbling in the darkness and cursing the rocks that tripped her. She pinched her face and rubbed her eyes, squinting in the darkness. She tightened the jacket around her waist before running after Boromir. As she forced herself awake, all she could think about was a nice warm bed.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
After a long time, Boromir halted on a hilltop, looking over the land. The sun had begun to rise, and a pale light was beginning to dispel the darkness. In the distance there was a sparkle of gold that glimmered as the rays of sunshine hit it.  
  
Steph stumbled sleepily to his side. "Why'd we stop?" she asked, her words slightly slurred.  
  
"We are close." He pointed to the glimmer of gold in the distance. "Do you see that?"  
  
Squinting at the darkened land, Steph irritably shook her head. "What the hell are you talking about?" she snapped, frowning at the darkness, "I don't see anything, just dark!"  
  
"That gold glimmer! Can't you see it?"  
  
Steph squinted again in the direction Boromir was pointing. "Yeah, I see it now." She turned back to him. "What's so great about it?"  
  
"What you see is Meduseld, the golden hall."  
  
She scowled at him. "Is that a good thing?" Lack of sleep was making everything annoy her.  
  
Boromir snorted at her ignorance. "Yes, it is a good thing." He said curtly, starting to run again.  
  
"Is it close to Edoras?" she called to his retreating back.  
  
"It *is* Edoras, you fool!"  
  
Steph glared at him. "Well sorrr-rry Boromir!" she snapped, "I wasn't aware that I was supposed to be an expert on a *fictional* geography!"  
  
They inched along toward the glimmer, and said no more.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Boromir drank water from his cupped hands as he settled back against the willow tree. His stomach growled loudly, and with each thump of his heart the arrow wound in his left shoulder throbbed. He rubbed at it with his palm, which made the pain subside. This place looked oddly familiar, and obviously the Rohirrim used it, as the ford between the low banks was trampled by horses.  
  
He enjoyed sitting there in the shade of the willow tree. The land about him was green, showing signs of spring. As he closed his eyes and considered a nap, he heard Steph's distinct footsteps running towards him.  
  
"Come here a sec!" she ordered impatiently.  
  
Boromir followed her as she scrambled up the hill like an eager young child. He faintly wondered how she could go from being drunk from fatigue to acting as if fire was behind her.  
  
When he got to the top, she gestured to the many mounds in front of them. They were high and green, and seemed sprinkled with stars on the sides facing west.  
  
"What is it?" Steph asked quietly. Something about the place made her feel that she should whisper.  
  
Boromir also felt the need to be quiet. "It is a place of rest for the sires of Théoden."  
  
"What are those white things?"  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow. "White things?"  
  
"Yes!" she whispered, becoming annoyed, "Those things growing on one side of the hills!"  
  
"Ah, of course." He said with a laugh, "They are called simbelmynë. They grow where dead men rest."  
  
Steph nodded silently, wondering if Boromir's people did the same. "It's actually very pretty," she said, eyes locked on the mounds, "to be a graveyard and all."  
  
Wordlessly, the two returned to the stream and willow trees. Steph stooped by the spring and drank. After washing her sweaty face, she yawned.  
  
"Are we almost there?" she asked, her fatigue returning. She always found it strange that she could feel so energetic one moment and then feel like crap the next.  
  
Boromir nodded, smiling at nothing in particular. "We are very near Edoras."  
  
Steph snorted. "I've heard that before."  
  
"You should have more faith in me, Steph." Boromir laughed, his good humor returning because of finding the water, "We are close, whether you believe it or not."  
  
Stifling a yawn, Steph followed him. They were close. Yeah right.  
  
"Is your land this pretty, Boromir?"  
  
"I suppose it is." He answered simply, keeping his eyes ahead of him.  
  
"What's so great about your land, anyway?" she asked sleepily, hoping conversation would keep her awake.  
  
Boromir fought to keep the anger and indignation of out his voice. "By our valour the wild folk of the East are restrained, and the terror of Morgul kept at bay. Thus the peace and freedom are maintained in lands behind us. My people are brave and valiant, and our land noble."  
  
Steph munched her lip in the uncomfortable silence. "Sounds nice."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
"Hurry Steph!" Boromir shouted over his shoulder, "We are almost there!"  
  
Steph started into a stumbling trot, making her way up the hill. As she reached Boromir, she gasped loudly. They were there!  
  
Boromir started toward it, but Steph grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Hold on!"  
  
He shot her an irritated look. "What is it now?"  
  
"Would they know you're dead?"  
  
He snorted. "I don't know. We will have to risk it."  
  
She didn't release him arm. "What if they attack? What if they think you're a ghost?"  
  
"They won't." he said impatiently, wrenching his arm from her grasp. Giving her a reassuring glance, he started toward the gates of Edoras.  
  
"Wait!" she cried again, grabbing for his arm.  
  
"What now?"  
  
"You've got mud all over your face!" she quipped bossily, tugging him backwards. "You can't go in like that!"  
  
"Stop this, woman! Let me go!" he pulled his arm away and started again, though he did run his arm over his face just in case.  
  
Men clad in mail were sitting by the gates, though it seemed that there were fewer than the last time he had been here. Upon closer inspection he saw that it was two old men and a young boy! Where were the young warriors to guard Edoras?  
  
The young boy saw them first. He nudged the old men, who looked up and wearily got to their feet.  
  
"Halt strangers!" shouted the young boy, his voice not yet changed by manhood.  
  
"Who are you and what is your errand in Edoras?" the old man drawled, fumbling with the heavy sword in his hands.  
  
Steph joined Boromir. Shifting her weight to one hip, she looked at him. "These are the Rohirrim?" she snorted, "I'm not impressed."  
  
Boromir shook his head. "I do not know what has happened. Children and Elders should not be guarding the gates."  
  
The boy took a step forward, struggling to hold the sword. "Speak, silent one!" he shouted, his face white with fear.  
  
The quiet man noticed Steph. "Strange is your companion, and strange is her garb. I have never seen a company so strange in appearance and manner." He squinted at both of them, his old eyes casting a haze and blurring their faces. "Why do you not speak? Answer!"  
  
"My God," Steph moaned, nudging Boromir. "Bor, I'm dead tired, answer their damn questions and get us in."  
  
Boromir frowned at Steph, but took a step toward the ragtag guards. "I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, my companion is Lady Ste-"  
  
"Boromir?" the old man snorted in disgust. "What is your jest? Dare you dishonour Boromir the Brave, knowing he is dead?"  
  
Boromir frowned, growing angry. "I am not jesting. Behold! I stand before you, alive as you are! I am in great haste to speak with Théoden and members of my company that I am told," he shot a glance at Steph, "are here. Let me pass!"  
  
The little boy plucked up his courage and spoke. "It is quite impossible." He stammered, unable to meet Boromir's steely gaze. "Boromir was slain by orcs. His companions sent him in his funeral boat down the Anduin."  
  
Steph had been silent through the entire conversation. She was nearly asleep on her feet, she was hungry, tired, and she was in an extremely bad mood. Unable to stand it any longer, she stepped forward and stood next to Boromir, fuming.  
  
"Look." She said menacingly, poking Boromir in the arm to get his attention, "I don't care if you have to cut off some heads to make them let us in, but if you're only going to sit here and have childish playground fights, I'm going to strangle someone."  
  
Boromir blinked at her. He didn't feel like dealing with her wrath at the moment. "My name is of no importance. I am escorting Lady Stephanie," he gestured to the scowling blonde, "to Edoras. I wish to speak with the sovereign of this place."  
  
The guards exchanged uneasy glances.  
  
"Let us in you assclowns!" Steph shouted, the dark circles under her eyes making her look almost frightening.  
  
The shorter of the two elders sighed. "Wait here! I will report them, and learn the will of our ruler." Beckoning to the young boy, the two set off, shooting the strangers distasteful looks.  
  
Steph plopped down on the ground. "Assclowns."  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
It had not been long before the old man returned, the boy supporting him. "You have been given leave to enter." He said, breathing heavily from the exertion of climbing up and down the steps.  
  
The dark gates were opened for the two travelers, and they followed the young boy through paths made of hewn stones that changed from winding paths to short flights of stairs.  
  
Steph looked around at the small wooden houses and doors they passed. She noticed the clear stream that flowed in a stone canal and was suddenly aware of her own thirst. It bubbled and sparkled, teasing her. Tearing her eyes away from it, she looked at the people instead. There was something missing..but what was it?  
  
Her attention was captured as they reached the top of the hill. A high platform stood above a green terrace, a stone carved like a horse's head at the foot of it. The clear water gushed from the 'horse rock' and onto a basin beneath it, eventually making the stream Steph had just passed. As she marveled at the horse, she noticed that on the green terrace went stairs of stone, and on each side of the topmost stair was a stone seat.  
  
She gasped audibly when she saw the guards sitting there. Their braided blonde hair gleamed in the sun, as did their green shields and silver corselets. Their swords were across their knees, ready to defend. Steph swallowed the nervous lump in her throat.  
  
The young boy nodded to the tall doors. "Here you are." He said nervously, "The Lord of the Mark waits for you." Bowing, he bade them goodbye and scurried back towards his post.  
  
Boromir shot Steph a pleased look. "Shall we go in?"  
  
She nodded as she watched him push open the doors. "My God, Boromir, I just noticed something.." 


	7. Decisions and Consequences

A/N: Sorry it took a while to update, especially when that cliffie was so evil! I hope you'll like this chapter, my little brother helped out on a few things. He's pretty good for ideas if I promise to give him chocolate..  
  
Thanks for all the reviews!! We've hit 100!!! YAY!!! You guys rock! ^__^  
  
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Disclaimer: I only own Steph and the voice (it needs a name, doesn't it?), not any of the Edoras people or Boromir.  
  
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**Chapter 7**  
  
"My God, Boromir, I just noticed something!" Steph whispered, glancing uneasily at the seated guards.  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"There are no men! Only women, children, and old people!"  
  
Boromir raised an eyebrow, looking about him. "How strange.." he murmured, noticing that she was correct. As he opened his mouth to speak again, the seated guards rose and spoke.  
  
"Hail, comers from afar!" they greeted, holding the hilts of their swords out to them in a sign of peace. Two old men opened the doors for the two, and they stepped inside, their eyes adjusting to the dark interior. Light streamed from the eastern windows, casting a glare on the old wooden floors.  
  
Boromir had to smile when he caught a glimpse of Steph. She was taking in the many sights around; her eyes round in curiosity and surprise. The pillars that held up the lofty roof gleamed with gold and half seen colors, and tapestries hung from the walls, depicting ancient legends.  
  
The most dazzling of the tapestries was the one of a blonde man on a white horse, water curling around the horse's hooves. It was set against a brilliant green, making Steph remember the seated guards' shields.  
  
Someone was seated in the throne, and as the pair entered, the person looked up. Their face was covered by shadow.  
  
"Hail, Théoden son of Thengel!" Boromir greeted, putting a hand to his chest and bowing.  
  
"I am not Théoden King." Said the person, rising from the chair, "I am Lady Éowyn, Lord to the Eorlingas in Theoden's absence."  
  
As she spoke, she stepped into the light. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders like a river of gold, her glance cold and stern. The mail she wore shone in the sun, as did the sword that hung at her side.  
  
"Théoden's absence?" Boromir said, giving her a puzzled look, "You mean he is not here? What of a company that was said to have passed through here? A man, a dwarf, an elf, and 2 halflings?"  
  
Éowyn frowned, eyeing both of them distrustfully. "A company has passed through Edoras, yes." She said slowly, "But it did not include 'halflings' nor would I know what they are."  
  
"Holbytlan in your tongue." Boromir said, beginning to despair.  
  
"They are folk of legend, stranger. Still, we saw naught of them."  
  
Noting their uneasy silence, she continued. "Who are you and what business have you in Rohan? How did you come to know of such a Company?"  
  
Boromir sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "I am Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor. I was a member of the company, and I am following them. I thought perhaps they would have lingered here, and I hoped to gain the council of Théoden."  
  
Éowyn narrowed her eyes. "You lie. To our dismay, we were informed that Boromir of Gondor was dead, slain by orcs."  
  
"I am alive!" Boromir insisted, knitting his eyebrows together, "I have returned from death, and I intend to help the Fellowship!" he tugged at the Elvish brooch at his throat. When it came free, he walked forward and put it into her hand.  
  
"Surely you have seen similar. The Lady of the Golden Wood bestowed such gifts to every member of our Company. Such things are not just distributed to strange travelers."  
  
Taking the brooch in her slender hand, she studied it. Wonder came into her eyes as she handed it back to him. "How is it possible?" she asked quietly.  
  
"I am not sure." He answered, shrugging his shoulders, "I am alive nonetheless, and eager to fight."  
  
Eowyn's eyes flicked to Steph, who had been in the background, listening. "Who is your companion.." she hesitated, "Boromir?"  
  
"Ah, of course." He said, pulling Steph forward by her elbow, "This is Lady Stephanie."  
  
Steph smiled a hello, before pulling her elbow away from Boromir. Couldn't he ever get her name right? She stifled a yawn, though not very well.  
  
"You both are tired." Said Éowyn, "Rest a while, and I will tell you what you know."  
  
Thanking her, they followed a young boy to separate rooms, and each took a well-deserved rest.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Steph groaned as she rolled over, the thin scratchy blanket pulled over her head. She had hoped that it had all been a dream, and that she would wake up well fed, clean, and warm in her bed. No such luck.  
  
Scowling, she pushed the blanket off her and climbed out of bed, eager to get off the straw filled mattress she had been sleeping on. She had a horrible feeling that there were bugs in it. The room she had been given was very small, the size of her bathroom back home. A bed was in one corner, a table and chair in another. Nothing adorned the brown, drab walls, not even a window.  
  
Steph noticed that the orc knife had been taken, but she really didn't mind. It was ugly, and she had only carried it because Boromir was being so stubborn. Her purse was on the chair, right where she left it, and she hurried to find her mirror and get a look at herself.  
  
"No bath in days.." she grumbled, glaring at her dirty face and messy hair. Her clothes were wrinkled and travel worn, and the shadows cast by the stumpy candle made her tired face look even more haggard than it already was.  
  
Steph stretched and brushed her hair, pulling a briar or two from the blonde mess. She would have liked to wash her hair and clothes, but she doubted the people around bathed regularly.  
  
Picking up her purse, she went in search of Boromir. He and Éowyn were supposed to talk later, and she'd rather listen to them prattle on about something that sit in the dark room.  
  
As luck would have it, he was coming down the hall as she stepped out of the room. He frowned when he saw her, but said nothing when she greeted him and followed him in search of Éowyn.  
  
Éowyn was talking with an old woman, smiling and using her hands to get her message across. With a cry of crow like laughter, the woman bowed and shuffled out, leaving Éowyn to speak with the two.  
  
"We thank you for your hospitality, but I wish to leave as soon as possible. Do you know where the Fellowship has gone?"  
  
Éowyn nodded. "It has been naught but a day that I stood alone, before the doors of this house, and watched the glitter of their spears as though rode to war at Helm's Deep."  
  
Boromir gasped. "Rode to battle? Is that this where your men have gone?"  
  
"Yes, Théoden called for any man old enough to bear arms to ride to battle. They would have reached it today."  
  
"Who do they battle against?" he asked, leaning forward eagerly.  
  
"An army from Isengard."  
  
Steph helped herself to a piece of cheese a servant had brought to them. "Orc army, big fight." With this said, she clapped a hand over her mouth.  
  
Both turned to stare at her. "What did you say?" Boromir asked, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"I didn't say anything." She insisted quickly, trying to look innocent.  
  
"You knew of this, and you never said anything??" he barked, pulling her closer to him.  
  
"You never asked!" she shouted, wrenching away, "Besides, I didn't read the whole Théoden going away part!"  
  
Boromir glared at her. "Why not?"  
  
"It was boring!"  
  
Boromir began to wonder how he had managed not to kill her.  
  
"I saw the movie," she added quietly, "but I don't remember it. I was drooling over the guys, not listening to the storyline."  
  
"You are completely worthless at times, do you know that?"  
  
Éowyn cleared her throat. "They are at Helm's Deep, and your friends accompanied the Eorlingas."  
  
Boromir smiled at her. "You have been most helpful, Lady Éowyn. I intend to follow them, but I will need a steed and a weapon."  
  
"We can provide both." She assured, before glancing at Steph. "Will she need a weapon also?"  
  
"I was hoping to leave her in your care.." he trailed off.  
  
"What?" exclaimed Steph, leaping to her feet, "You can't leave me here!"  
  
Boromir glared at her. "What would you suggest? That I bring you along so you can further prove how worthless you are?"  
  
Eager to break up the fight, Éowyn cleared her throat. "She may stay here."  
  
Steph glared first at Boromir, who was looking smug, and then at Éowyn, whose face she could not read.  
  
Boromir looked to the sinking sun. "How soon may my necessities be provided? I am eager to leave."  
  
Éowyn rose and beckoned for him to follow, leaving Steph alone. She glared at each of them, wishing she were dead or home or both. Dead at home would be better than dead in Middle Earth. Groaning, she pounded her head against the table.  
  
"I. Hate. This. Place."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
A sword at his side and reins in his hands, Boromir waved goodbye and spurred the horse forward. Steph had looking as she could kill him. Her eyebrows were knitted together, her lower lip protruding, and her blue green eyes flashing fire. He wondered who she would be taking her wrath out on first.  
  
The brown stallion was a swift runner, and soon the gold top of Meduseld was nothing but a glimmer in the sunset. He winced slightly as one of the arrow wounds burned sharply.  
  
A few minutes later he gasped for air from the wave of pain that flowed over him. Being the experienced warrior he was, he did not cry out when dealing with pain, but when it happened a third time, he had to stifle a yelp. The pain continued like a tide, enveloping him and then receding into a dull throb.  
  
Soon it was becoming so bad that his vision was blurring. He whimpered as a particularly strong one hit, furious at himself for being so weak. This one receded, though his whole body ached from it. He leaned forward on the horse, afraid he might fall off.  
  
Boromir cried out in surprise and pain as he felt one of the wounds open up. He pulled back sharply on the reins, forcing the horse to stop. Moaning in pain, he half jumped half fell off the horse and pulled up his tunic.  
  
The broken shaft of an arrow was in the wound. He touched it, and cried out from the excruciating pain that followed. Gasping for breath, he got shakily to his feet and walked a few steps, hoping it would lessen the pain.  
  
The pain was back, and the arrow had grown.  
  
"The arrow is coming back!" he shouted, though the only being to hear it was the horse.  
  
Just to test it, he crawled a steps in the direction he had walking. The pain was overwhelming and the arrow completed itself. Getting hit with arrows was bad enough, but having them grow back was worse. It was enough to make him, Boromir of Gondor, want to scream.  
  
He lay on his back, waiting for the pain to stop, and one thought crossed his mind. "Why did I leave Steph behind? She could have done something.." with the last words still echoing in his head, all went to familiar blackness.  
  
"Boromir, you stubborn fool." The voice whispered in his ear.  
  
Boromir sat up with some difficulty. "What do you speak of?"  
  
"You left her."  
  
"Of course I left her," he said defensively, "she would only hold me back."  
  
The voice sighed, irritation obvious in its usually soft voice. "You don't understand. She is the reason you are alive."  
  
Boromir was silent, shock written all over his face. "Steph? Is she also the reason the arrows are returning?"  
  
"No. You are. Without her, you will die. The farther you are from Steph, the closer to death you will come."  
  
"Will I die tonight then? After all I have done?"  
  
"Return to Steph. Do not be a haughty fool, Boromir. Your pride and arrogance will be your downfall.."  
  
"What is the fate of this journey? Will I succeed, or is-"  
  
The last of his words were lost, as if he had gone deaf. He sat up, relived to find he was on his back on the plains.  
  
Carefully, he felt his side. The arrow was gone, though the wound was still tender to the touch. Mounting the horse, he turned and rode as quickly as he could toward the faint glimmer of Meduseld and the salvation that was Steph.  
  
"What horrible fortune fate has dealt me." 


	8. Second Chances

A/N: Wow, this is my longest time not updating!! I feel so bad, and I apologize! With spring break and meeting up with friends and such, I've been totally neglecting my writing! Thanks for being so patient; now that Spring Break is winding down, I'll be on time with the chapters! ^.^  
  
Just a note, I'm doing this book verse. Some people had remarked on Éowyn and the women, elders, children, etc. staying in Edoras. In the movie they went along with the men, but in the book they stay in Edoras. Go read 'The King of the Golden Hall' if you don't believe me. ^_^  
  
Thanks for all the reviews! I really appreciate them!  
  
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Disclaimer: If you think I'm Tolkien, get your head checked.  
  
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**Chapter 8**  
  
Boromir was glad he had only traveled a short distance, as he was able to return to Edoras in a little over an hour. Each time the horse's hooves hit the ground, bringing him closer, he felt stronger. By the time he hurried past the guards, he was feeling like his old self.  
  
He couldn't remember where Steph had been staying, and being the brilliant problem solver he was, he stood in front of Meduseld and pounded on the doors. Disgruntled mothers and elders shouted at him from their small houses and at last a servant came to the door, looking sleepy and angry.  
  
"What is it?" she hissed, squinting at him through the dark.  
  
Boromir wondered for a moment why she wasn't paying him more respect, before remembering the darkness. "I am searching for Lady Stephanie."  
  
She beckoned for him to follow, leading him down a dark corridor. The door to Steph's room was slightly ajar, and he was able to push it open without making much sound.  
  
Steph was asleep, the blanket wrapped around her head like a cocoon. Boromir wasn't sure how to wake her, as past experiences with waking Steph usually ended in pain.  
  
Carefully, he shook her shoulder, softly calling her name.  
  
She moved away from his touch, grumbling a curse into blanket, which had fallen over her face. Boromir sighed. He didn't have time for this. Seizing her by her arms, he pulled her into a sitting position and shook her.  
  
Immediately awake, Steph blinked, trying to register what was going on. She saw Boromir, and her sleepy look turned to a death glare.  
  
"Come back for me, assclown?" she snapped, shoving his hands away.  
  
"Yes, I've come back for you. We need to leave as soon as possible."  
  
She snorted. "Screw that. I'm going back to sleep. You left me, it won't kill you to wait."  
  
Boromir seized her arm and pulled her back up before she could lie down. "We are leaving now. Get up."  
  
She sent him a rebellious glare. "Make me."  
  
Glaring back, he picked her up and swung her over one shoulder. The woman was still standing there, looking rather shocked. Steph was cursing and beating on Boromir's back with her fists, but he didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Is Lady Éowyn awake?" Boromir asked, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to soften Steph's fists.  
  
"I will find out, my lord." She said, now aware of Boromir's identity. She hurried away, a puzzled expression on her simple face.  
  
"Put me down." Steph demanded.  
  
"I will not."  
  
"Put me down now."  
  
"No."  
  
She sighed irritably. "I swear, if you don't put me down in 5 seconds, I'll bite you."  
  
Boromir smirked. "Oh really?"  
  
"One..two.."  
  
"I won't put you down."  
  
"Three..four.."  
  
He was beginning to chuckle.  
  
"Five." Steph waited, hoping that he would put her down and she wouldn't have to bite him. He probably tasted gross, like death and dirt. Eww.  
  
"I'm warning you." She prompted, trying to stall.  
  
Boromir smirked again. "I won't put you down."  
  
Just as she prepared to sink her teeth into his shoulder, Éowyn and the servant woman started walking toward them. Éowyn looked surprised to see them.  
  
"Lord Boromir!" she exclaimed, eyeing Steph, "What has happened?"  
  
"Lady Stephanie-"  
  
"STEPH!" Steph corrected loudly, trying to twist her head at an angle so she could bite his upper arm, "Can't you ever get it right?"  
  
Both women looked taken aback by her comment, but Boromir continued, unphased. "I have decided to bring Lady Stephanie along with me. It would be much more convenient."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Steph reluctantly followed Boromir to the waiting horse. She had been given a knife to replace the one she previously had, and it hung in a scabbard at her waist. She was not at all pleased with it, as having a standard female figure it kept sliding down her hips and hilt kept thumping against her waist. She was positive that a large bruise was forming.  
  
Boromir bowed to Lady Éowyn in parting, before striding over to where Steph was standing.  
  
"I see you're behaving yourself." He remarked, mounting the horse.  
  
Steph put her hands on her hips, frowning at him. "I need help here."  
  
"With what?"  
  
"Duh! Mounting the horse!"  
  
Boromir snorted. "By the Valar, what do you learn in your world?"  
  
"We have cars, assclown, horses aren't needed."  
  
Sighing, Boromir offered his hand. Steph made a face but took it, and clumsily mounted the horse. Boromir spurred the horse onward with his heels, making Steph seize his arm, fearing she might fall off.  
  
"I'm going to fall off!" she cried, tightening her grip on his arm.  
  
"You will not." He said, trying to concentrate on making the horse go faster, "You are safe, I assure you."  
  
"I hate horses." Steph grumbled, seizing Boromir's arm again as the horse picked up speed. "How far is it to Helm's Deep?"  
  
"Forty leagues and more as a bird flies."  
  
Steph made a face. "Ok..is that a lot?"  
  
Boromir snorted at her ignorance. "Yes."  
  
Still holding his arm, Steph scanned the plains about her. This was going to be a long trip.  
  
"I hate horses."  
  
Boromir frowned at the land in front of them. The sun had long since set, and now the plains were bathed in a white gold. He hated traveling at night, especially on a way he didn't know. If the circumstances had been different he would have stopped and rested at the very moment, but he desperately needed to get to Helm's Deep. If there was to be a battle, he wanted to be included in it.  
  
He would not be left behind again. With this thought in mind, he kicked the horse's sides, spurring him forward.  
  
After some time, clouds rolled over the moon, making it impossible to see anything. Cursing, he dismounted the horse and looked over the plains. They had traveled an hour or so, and they were just beyond the place Boromir had stopped last. He helped Steph off the horse.  
  
"We will have to rest here," he explained, grimacing at the land, "It is too dark to continue."  
  
Steph yawned sleepily. "I was wondering when you would admit that."  
  
Setting up a small camp, Boromir let Steph sleep first. After a while he woke her up again, instructing her to get him up at dawn. She nodded, stupid with sleep, and tried furiously to stay awake.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Steph had long since fallen asleep, but by some miracle, she awoke as the sun peeked over the horizon.  
  
"Boromir," she said, nudging him with her foot, "It's dawn. Get up."  
  
The two started off again, crossing small streams and fords in a green country. The Misty Mountains were far ahead, looming dark and tall. The sky itself was dark and stormy, making Boromir uneasy. The air was heavy with something he could not place, and it frightened him.  
  
Steph had fallen asleep against his chest. He was glad to see that she was sleeping again. When she was awake she'd stare off into the distance silently, or make small talk that made no sense. She was mostly silent. This worried him, as quiet wasn't her natural state.  
  
It was almost noon when Boromir saw Helm's Deep far ahead of him. There lay a green comb where a gorge opened in the hills.  
  
Steph stared at it in awe. "Is that it?"  
  
Boromir nodded. "Yes, that is Helm's Deep. It is named for a hero of old who made his refuge there."  
  
There were high walls of ancient stone and a large tower. The walls wound around, barring the entrance to the gorge. Steph stretched, squinting at the figures on the walls.  
  
"Is there anything in Gondor like this?"  
  
Boromir straightened up with pride. "There are many things in Gondor that greatly surpass Helm's Deep."  
  
Steph grinned at him. "You are so weird sometimes."  
  
He appeared to have not heard her comment, as he was looking past her in horror.  
  
"What?" she asked, twisting in her seat to see what he was looking at, "What is it?"  
  
"There has already been a battle here!" he swept his hand over the many bodies that lay piled about, awaiting burial from the workers around them. One of the workers spotted the pair on the horse and cried out in surprise. Soon, a man rode from Helm's Deep to meet them.  
  
"Hail strangers!" he said, glaring at them suspiciously, "Be you friend or foe of Théoden King?"  
  
Boromir put his hand to his chest in greeting. "Hail! We are friend to Théoden King. We travel from Meduseld to gain his council. The Lady Éowyn said that he was here, along with a Company of three, clad in Elven garb."  
  
The man's look grew even more distrustful. "How do you know of such a company?"  
  
Steph sighed, but said nothing. Did they always have to ask the same questions?  
  
"I was a member of the company. Quickly! Tell me where they are, as I am in great haste to speak with them!"  
  
The man sighed. "There was a great battle fought here," he swept his hand over the bodies, "We defeated the army, and now Théoden King and the company which you speak of have traveled to Isengard."  
  
Boromir face fell, and he clenched his hands into fists. Cursing, he wiped away the sweat that had been forming on his forehead. "Then we have traveled all this way for naught!"  
  
Steph turned around in her seat. "Then we'll follow them." She turned back to the man, "When did they leave?"  
  
"Only an hour or so ago." He said, just then noticing Steph.  
  
Boromir sighed. "We will rest here, then we will start after the company." He sighed dejectedly. He had missed them again! It would take at least a day to catch up with Théoden and the others.  
  
As the two set up camp on the hard stone, the same thought rushed through their minds.  
  
"Why us?"  
  
Steph pulled her jacket around her, blocking out the cool air. "Do you think we'll catch up with them?"  
  
"I hope so. We will rest here, and then we will start to Isengard."  
  
"What then? Are you going to leave me there or something, Mr. Brilliant Problem Solver?"  
  
Boromir snorted. "I'm not going to leave you anywhere. You're coming along with me."  
  
Steph looked at him skeptically. "Why the change of heart?"  
  
"Go to sleep. You'll need it." He said, turning away from her. Something told him he shouldn't tell her about needing her near him to keep him alive. If she was angry with him, she could always get as far away from him where it wouldn't kill him, just cause him a great deal of pain. But was she really that cruel? Maybe he was being selfish with the information..  
  
He shook his head. He wouldn't tell her. That was final.  
  
"You're changing the subject." She said, breaking his thoughts.  
  
"I am not changing the subject." he said brilliantly, as he couldn't remember what the subject was.  
  
Steph frowned. "You are too. Quit being an assclown. Why did you come back for me?"  
  
Boromir turned a shoulder to her and settled against the rock. Meddlesome females...  
  
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A/N: Sorry everyone, I know that one was a bit boring. Maybe after both of them have had some sleep they'll stop crabbing at each other like old people and do some actually bickering! ^_^  
  
Thanks for reading!  
  
Enednilwen* 


	9. Attacks

A/N: Sorry for the delay, my dad was being a computer hog. Chapter 10 might be late, as I haven't really planned it out yet. Thanks for being so patient! Thanks for the reviews!! ^__^  
  
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Disclaimer: Steph is mine, Boromir is not. Squee.  
  
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**Chapter 9**  
  
The two slept longer than they had intended, and both dreamed dark, troubling dreams. Steph woke with a start after a quiet, chilling voice began speaking to her in her ear. She was breathing heavily, and no matter how hard she tried, she could not fall back asleep. She didn't want to hear the voice again. Every time she slept it would whisper something she didn't understand. A grey mist would engulf her, and the ground she stood on would begin to crumble beneath her. The words would get louder and louder as the sky began to swirl...  
  
Steph shivered. She didn't want to think about it.  
  
"I need to get my mind off it." Steph mused, looking around for something to do. Her eyes fell on the sleeping form of Boromir. Her face lighting up mischievously, she started to root through her purse.  
  
It was travel worn and dirty, and she was rather surprised that it had made it so far. A hair brush, pencil and cosmetics were rather useless on such a journey, but she couldn't bring herself to throw away the items that reminded her so much of home. So, rolling her eyes at Boromir's remarks, she continued to tie it to the belt around her waist. The belt was too big for her, even if she hadn't lost weight, and the purse evened things out a bit.  
  
Steph came up with a tube of 'Mauve Ahead' lipstick and surveyed it with mounting dislike. She had always hated the color, and wondered for a moment why she had let Sara talk her into it. Shrugging away the thoughts, she crept toward Boromir. He was on his back, one hand over his chest, the other beneath his tilted head.  
  
Stealthily, she drew two lines on his cheek, like Indian war paint. After doing the same on the other, she started on his forehead. As she started toward his nose, he jerked, blinking open his eyes. Steph hurriedly shoved the lipstick into her back pocket, smoothing stray blonde hairs and trying to look innocent.  
  
"Hiya." She greeted, waving at him. He raised a sleepy eyebrow.  
  
"Hello Steph."  
  
"I...em..think we should get up now." She said brilliantly.  
  
"Ah. Of course." Boromir sat up and stretched, frowning at the sun. "We have lingered here too long." He announced, dusting himself off, "If we wish to catch up with them, we must leave now."  
  
Steph was struggling not to laugh. "Yep. Whatever you say Chief Running Bull."  
  
He gave a quizzical look. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Eh, nothing. Let's go."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Sara looked sadly at the empty seat beside her. The town was in an uproar now that Steph had been abducted a second time. The TV news crews were getting annoying, screaming questions and begging interviews as she walked toward her car on the way home. She had been the last person to see the now famous blonde, so she was the person everyone wanted to talk to.  
  
Pulling her eyes away from the seat, she tried to concentrate on the lesson. The bell soon rang, and the halls were congested with students. The noise of all of them was deafening, and Sara almost missed her friend Heather, who was waving frantically at her as she fought against the crowd.  
  
"Any news?" Heather asked for what seemed the millionth time.  
  
Sara shook her head. "I visited her dad yesterday. He's pretty upset."  
  
"One would think."  
  
"Do you think she's with.." Sara paused for a moment to step around a boy with a lower locker, "you know who?"  
  
"Boromir?" Heather asked, rather loudly.  
  
Sara glared at her. "Of course!" she hissed quietly, trying to remain inconspicuous, "Do you?"  
  
Heather looked uncomfortable. "I dunno.." she said, twirling a lock of black hair around her finger, "I mean, it's been a few months. I hope she is."  
  
"Don't just hope. She *is* with him. I know it. We've gotta keep faith." Sara pulled herself up, holding her head high. "We've got to keep faith."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
After getting information about where the King and the others were going and in which direction, Steph and Boromir said goodbye and started off. Steph stole a glance at Boromir, who was looking grim and determined. He still had mauve stripes across his face. Steph wondered if he had noticed them yet.  
  
As she was about to ask him, he halted in front of a group of dark trees. Steph turned her attention to them.  
  
"We should go around." She said, frowning at the trees. There was something about them she didn't like.  
  
"We will lose too much time. We must go through."  
  
Steph shook her head. "I really think we should go around. I don't trust it."  
  
Boromir snorted. "I do not trust you, but you are riding with me, are you not?"  
  
Without waiting for a remark, he plunged in, ignoring the horse's nervous snorts. He could feel something in the air, and dug his heels into the horse's sides, trying to make it go faster. The trees seemed to glare at them, and if he listened closely, he could have sworn he heard muttering and whispering.  
  
"Speak quietly, if you must speak at all." He cautioned Steph. The two continued on in silence.  
  
As they traveled deeper into the forest, the muttering seemed to become louder. Boromir unsheathed his sword, glancing about him nervously. He could hear groaning and creaking, as if something was moving. Light was up ahead, and he could see that they were nearly out.  
  
Suddenly, Steph screamed shrilly. One of the branches of a particularly large tree smashed down in front of them. Another swiped at them, narrowly missing their heads. Boromir pushed Steph down, so that her face was buried in the horse's mane. The beast was panicking, neighing in fright. As Boromir started to hack at one of the attacking branches, Steph screamed again, digging her heels into the horse.  
  
"You moron!!" she cried over her shoulder, "It's a TREE! You're a HUMAN!! REMEMBER THE ODDS!!" the horse bolted toward the light in fear, not stopping until it was nearly out of breath. At this point, they were far from the attacking forest. Both riders quickly dismounted, their hearts pounding in their ears.  
  
"You dumbass!" Steph panted, "I told you we shouldn't have gone in there!!" she flopped down on the ground, feebly shaking a fist. "And what the hell were you thinking, trying to attack a tree whose one little branch is as big around as you! Idiot!"  
  
Boromir smirked at her words. "You never will miss a chance to upbraid me, will you?"  
  
Steph pulled herself into a sitting position, snorting at him. "Upbraid? What does tha...oh never mind. I don't care. But if you're trying to kill me by letting me get smashed to pieces by trees, save yourself some trouble and smite me now."  
  
He paled slightly at her comment. He had almost forgotten about her life connection to him. He would have to be more careful. If she died, he would too, and if he died, she would die anyway as she had no survival skills. It was a sick joke that fate was playing on them.  
  
"I will not smite you." He said, forcing a smile, "We will need to work together if we wish to reach Isengard." He mounted the horse, offering her a hand.  
  
"Promise me one thing." She said, clumsily mounting the horse, "No more big evil forests with people killing trees. Promise?"  
  
He sighed. "I promise."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
They did not stop until dusk, as Boromir was eager to get to Isengard. Boromir discovered the pink lines across his face, and rubbed at them until his face was red. In revenge, he decided to start out at dawn.  
  
After some hours of riding, Boromir woke Steph up to show her what was once a large black pillar with a great stone, carved and painted to look like a white hand. It was now broken into small chunks. The white forefinger lay in the dust, its once red nail now almost black. Both shivered involuntarily.  
  
"Let's hurry past it." Steph begged, eyeing the hand suspiciously.  
  
The gates were up ahead, or at least what was left of them. They were twisted and destroyed, and all about them was cracked stone and splintered wood.  
  
Boromir looked on in awe. "Who could do such a thing?"  
  
He led the horse forward slowly and cautiously, both riders looking about for any sign of life.  
  
Steph sighed irritably as they crept closer. "They should be here. They were supposed to come to Isengard and chat with Saruman!"  
  
Boromir gawked at her. "Chat?"  
  
"Well, not exactly chat, but talk about something. Can't remember what, so don't ask me."  
  
Boromir cried out in surprise. "Those trees! They are moving!"  
  
A very large tree looked up in surprise when it saw them and started walking toward them. At the same moment, Boromir heard the sounds of commands being yelled to riders.  
  
"The riders! I can hear them!" he shouted, turning the horse and starting toward the sounds.  
  
"Probably scared off by the evil trees! God, I HATE nature!" Steph yelled back, grabbing his arm for stability as the horse picked up speed.  
  
The cloud of dust accompanying the riders could be seen, weapons and mail coats shimmering in the sun. Boromir's face lit up. They were not too late! They had found them!  
  
Steph pointed happily to them, crying out happily. "I can see them! It's the Fellowship!"  
  
She cried out again, this time in fear. "EVIL TREE!! GO! GO! RUN YOU MORON, RUN!!"  
  
Boromir could hear the thundering footsteps behind him, and kicking the horse numerous times, spurred him onward, outrunning the huge tree.  
  
They had come this far, and the riders were so close, only a few leagues ahead. They were going to make it! 


	10. Arrivals

A/N: Hullo everyone! My apologies for this late chapter. I got sick with strep throat on Wednesday, and I haven't been in the mood for writing. Thanks for the wonderful reviews! I'm also very happy, because after losing my order *twice* Amazon.com called to say that my books are finally on the way, and will be arriving Monday! I had ordered the Silmarillion and some other Tolkien works, so hopefully I'll be inspired by them to write something after WU ends.  
  
There was a slight misunderstanding in the last chapter. Boromir and Steph did NOT go through Fangorn. If you look at a map of Middle Earth, you would see that if that Fangorn is quite far from Isengard, and if our beloved pair were to go through it, they would go completely out of their way. Here is an excerpt from The Two Towers, spoken by Legolas:  
  
"For they do not belong here and know little of Elves and Men. Far away are the valleys where they sprang. From the deep dales of Fangorn, Gimli, that is whence they come, I guess."  
  
My interpretation was that the Ents in this forest are originally from Fangorn, but moved. Just thought I'd clear that up.  
  
Thanks for being so patient! What with bad grades and being sick, I know my updates have been really sluggish! I'm trying to keep on top! ^__^  
  
Ciao!  
  
Enednilwen*  
  
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Disclaimer: Steph is mine, Boromir is Tolkien's.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
**Chapter 10**  
  
Soon the thundering footsteps of the Ent slowed, and finally came to a halt. It had evidently been ordered to stop, as after a loud bellowing, it started back in the direction it had come. Steph sighed in relief.  
  
"Wow, that was close."  
  
Boromir nodded, his concentration on the dust and glint of metal that was the Fellowship.  
  
"They're pretty far ahead." Steph announced, shading her eyes with her hand.  
  
When Boromir made no effort at conversation, she became slightly annoyed. "Is that just the Fellowship, or are the Rohirry people with them?" she asked, purposely saying it wrong.  
  
He grunted at her mistake, but said nothing. Maybe if he kept ignoring her, she would be quiet. He was trying to think.  
  
His aloofness was grinding on her nerves, especially the way he made it so obvious. "Well? Are they? Quit being such an assclown!"  
  
"It is Rohirrim." He said, a slight edge to his voice. "And yes, the *Rohirrim* are with them."  
  
Steph smiled triumphantly. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?"  
  
Scowling, he said nothing.  
  
"How long will it take to reach them?"  
  
Boromir squinted at them. "They are quite far ahead. To any of them save Legolas, we would be but a flash of silver and a cloud of dust, much as they are to us."  
  
Steph sighed irritably. "Wow Boromir," she said sarcastically, "that was so helpful."  
  
"I do not know. We will follow them until they decide to stop."  
  
She looked at the sky in thought. "What will happen to me when we catch up with them?"  
  
"I suppose you will come with me." Boromir knew he should probably change 'I suppose you will' to 'I know you will', but said nothing.  
  
Steph wrinkled her nose in distaste, and it did not go unnoticed by Boromir. "What? Is there something wrong with me?" he teased.  
  
Caught, she stammered for an explanation. "Well...no...yes...I dunno! Quit grilling me!"  
  
"What were you hoping? That the dwarf would be overcome by your beauty and charms, and beg you to ride with him instead?"  
  
Steph went bright red in fury, hitting his arm angrily. "Oh course not, you ass! Shut up!"  
  
Boromir laughed. "I shall ignore your unjustified rudeness with the silence it deserves and will return to our former subject. But, I will only do so if you promise to remain civilized."  
  
She snorted. "Civilized, whatever. I'm not talking to you anymore. Assclown."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
They had been riding for a long time, and Steph was bored. She and Boromir had switched places, with her behind him. It had been alright the other way when they were not in a hurry, but because of their haste to catch up, it was slowing them down.  
  
Boromir hadn't said anything since they switched seats, so she jumped when he spoke to her.  
  
"Good Lord! You scared me half to death!"  
  
"Half to death?" he questioned, turning his head to look at her, "How is that possible?"  
  
"Never mind!" she answered, waving him off, "What'd you want?"  
  
He turned back to concentrating on the people ahead of him. "I was going to ask you to stop fidgeting. Give me a moment of peace!"  
  
"I can't help it!" Steph wailed, "I'm bored!"  
  
Boromir snorted. "Bored? Why?"  
  
"There's nothing to do! Plus, that damn song is stuck in my head! And it's so freaking annoying!!"  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Stuck in your head? What are you talking about, woman?"  
  
Steph groaned, pounding her head against Boromir's back. "That evil '1-800- Safe auto song!! AUGH!" She continued pounding her head against his back, chanting, "Stop playing! STOP STOP STOP!!"  
  
Boromir squirmed away from her. "Will you stop that!!" turning around, he pushed her away.  
  
The sky was getting darker, and Boromir stopped the horse so he could see where the Fellowship was. In the fading light, he could see that they had decided to rest for the night.  
  
He cried out in joy, and started to go forward when Steph grabbed him by the neck and pulled back.  
  
"Wait!"  
  
Twisting out of her choking grip, he turned around furiously. "What were you thinking?? Are you mad, trying to throttle me??"  
  
"I wasn't trying to kill you, I was trying to get your attention!"  
  
Boromir snorted. "A fine way to gain my attention."  
  
Steph glared at him. "You wouldn't have listened if I tapped you on the shoulder, which I had been doing for like, 5 minutes!"  
  
Sensing a fight, Boromir frowned. "Fine. What did you want to tell me?"  
  
"Don't you think they'd find it a bit odd to have me and you suddenly return from nowhere? I mean, I'm not sure which they would find more startling; the guy they pushed off a waterfall, or the bitch from the 21st century that bossed them around all the time."  
  
Boromir nodded grudgingly. He hated it when she was right. "This is very true."  
  
"No talking til I'm done." Steph snapped. Boromir glared at her, but quieted.  
  
"Then there's the fact that they've got Mr. I-Can-See-Stuff-That's-Real-Far- Away. Wouldn't he have already se-"  
  
Boromir stared at her, puzzled. "Who?"  
  
"Legolas, you idiot! The Elf! Can see and hear really good? Any of that ringing a bell??"  
  
"Of course!" he snapped back, his hurt pride making him more irritable than ever. "Please hurry up! Soon it will be too dark to see them!"  
  
Steph rolled her eyes. "You are such a wussie ass baby, Boromir." Pleased with the glare she received for this comment, she continued. "All I'm saying is that we need to be careful. I'd like to go home without arrow sticking out of me." She smirked at him. "Besides, we all know what *your* friends do when people get shot full of arrows! They push them down waterfalls! Wow, what nice friends you have Bor-"  
  
"Be silent, woman." He snapped, giving the horse a light kick to get it going, "I have no time for your insolence."  
  
"I have no time for your insolence." Steph mocked, rolling her eyes, "Geez, you'd think you're Queen of England of something."  
  
"Steward of Gondor." Said Boromir indignantly. He had no idea what England was or who the queen of it was, but by the mocking tone of Steph's voice it was probably not good.  
  
"*Future* Steward of Gondor, you assclown."  
  
Boromir scowled. "I believe I told you to be quiet."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
It was a shorter ride than Boromir had expected, and soon he was close enough to the camp that he could hear the men talking and laughing.  
  
Steph's was grumbling behind him. "Gung-ho attitude today aren't we? Just remember that if you don't speak softly you'll end up getting hit with a big stick."  
  
Boromir snorted. "Must you act like an old wife all the time?"  
  
"The day I ever become your wife is the day that hell opens an ice cream parlor!" she hissed angrily.  
  
"I do not recall saying that you were *my* old wife, Steph. I said that you acted like one."  
  
Steph scowled. "Oh shut up."  
  
Boromir dismounted and began to lead the horse toward the camp.  
  
"How exactly do you plan on doing this?" Steph hissed quietly, eyeing the camp nervously, "Go up and scream, 'Hey dudes! It's me, Boromir!' "  
  
"I will go to them, state my name, and we will pass through."  
  
Steph massaged her forehead. "So naïve. Look, they've got weapons. I don't want to be on the horse if they've got weapons. If I have to run, I don't want to have to fall off a horse first."  
  
Boromir frowned at her. "You will stay on the horse. Now be quiet." Taking a deep breath, he pushed a rather large bush aside and walked stealthily toward the eating men. Suddenly someone cried out, and raced toward them.  
  
Steph groaned. "Oh wonderful job, Boromir. Now they've spotted us!"  
  
Within minutes a scout was almost in front of them, sword drawn. A few other men were behind him.  
  
The man's first intention was obviously to slay them, but upon seeing that they were not orcs, but a human of obvious noble birth and a sulking female, he paused. Though puzzled, he still did not lower his weapon, or show any sign of peace.  
  
"Halt stranger!" the man shouted, shaking his sandy blond hair out of his eyes. The gathering darkness was making it hard for him to say exactly where they were from. Boromir's dark hair had almost automatically labeled him a Gondorian, and the manner in which he carried himself showed he was of noble birth. The female was a blonde, though he was curious to know why an Eorling was with a Gondorian. She was obviously not of noble birth, but she was also not of common birth. She carried herself differently, and he couldn't place what it was.  
  
He called to her in his native language, though she only looked at him strangely. Giving up, he turned back to Boromir. "What is your name and business?"  
  
Before Boromir could answer, a group gathered behind the man. Amid the sea of blond Rohirrim, three stood out, the three people he had longed to see for the longest time.  
  
Aragorn was the first to recognize him. "What trickery is this?"  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
A/N: Hey everyone!  
  
Sorry, I won't be able to update until Monday or Tuesday. Sorry for the cliffie, I couldn't help myself! Thanks for reading!  
  
Enednilwen* 


	11. Talks

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! Y'all rock! ^__^ Hope you enjoy this chapter! I was kind of uncertain as to how this chapter should go, but I think it turned out all right. On a personal note, my Tolkien books came today, FINALLY. I've wanted to read the Silmarillion for forever, but thanks to incompetent librarians, bookshop owners, and Amazon.com, I have been denied. Hah, not any longer!  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Disclaimer: Steph is mine, Boromir is Tolkien's. Happy day.  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
**Chapter 11**  
  
Boromir leaned closer to Aragorn, wondering what was wrong. He had gone suddenly deaf, and the sinking feeling in his stomach told him the ominous 'voice' would be paying him a visit.  
  
'This is the worst possible time!' he thought, his face showing his distress, 'To swoon like a weak female in front of these warriors! Curse the voice!'  
  
Suddenly the voice was in his ear, and the scene around him seemed to freeze. "Ah, Boromir! You should show me more respect. After all, I am the one who brought you back."  
  
Boromir reached out to touch the frozen face of Aragorn. "And what good has it done me? None! Barren wasteland, the abominable Steph, and uncertainty. Good? Hah! I see no evidence of-"  
  
"Be silent!" the voice commanded, a steely note Boromir had never heard before in its voice, "Do you see nothing Boromir? Are you really so ignorant?"  
  
Boromir glared at the frozen air around him. "You speak in such riddles! How can I learn from your meaningless words?"  
  
"You do not listen to my words! You hear them, yes, but you refuse to listen. You do not even know why I have sent you back, do you?"  
  
The man of Gondor clenched his hands into fists, his eyes flashing fire. "No, I do not!"  
  
"Then you do not know why Steph is here either?"  
  
His lip curled into a sneer. "Only to torment me, I suppose."  
  
"Then you have much to learn, Boromir of Gondor. There is a reason for everything, and you must look for the answers."  
  
"Tell me the answers! I do not know what you mean!"  
  
The voice laughed coldly, sarcasm obvious in its voice. "What good will it do you? What kind of warrior are you?"  
  
Boromir was persistent. "Why did you send us back! Tell me!"  
  
The voice laughed again, infuriating him. "Tell me who you are!" he demanded.  
  
"All in good time, Boromir. You must learn to be patient." The words faded onto the wind, until Boromir began to wonder if he had heard them at all.  
  
The outside world was released from the spell, and Aragorn advanced on Boromir, sword drawn.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Boromir fumbled for his sword, furious with himself for being so slow. He hoped that being dead hadn't dulled his fighting skills and reflexes. He hadn't fought (physically at least) with anyone since he had died.  
  
"Then you do not recognize me?" he asked curiously, surprised to see that the ranger hadn't welcomed him with open arms.  
  
Aragorn's face remained serious, though in his eyes a dull flame of hope flashed. It was quickly extinguished as the Elf joined him, muttering something to him in Elvish and giving Boromir a distasteful look.  
  
"Answer truthfully." Aragorn said with a sigh, watching every movement Boromir made, "Who are you?"  
  
"I am Boromir of Gondor, son of Denethor II, the Steward of Gondor."  
  
Legolas narrowed his eyes. "I believe he told you to answer truthfully."  
  
Aragorn peered at him in the darkness. "I do not deny that you look uncannily similar to the late Boromir of Gondor. Perhaps my eyes deceive me in the dark."  
  
Boromir shook his head. "They do not deceive you, Aragorn. But, perhaps if you were to view me by the light of fire, you would believe me."  
  
Aragorn was obviously surprised to be called by his true name by a stranger, but before he could speak the dwarf broke in.  
  
"And who might this be, sitting so silently?" he edged toward Steph, squinting up at her.  
  
Boromir's face lit up. Steph! Of course, that was how he could prove he was Boromir! "That would be Lady Steph, my friends. Surely you remember her?" he untied the blue ribbon from its place on his scabbard. "And surely you remember this?"  
  
Steph was pulled down from her perch on the horse, much too roughly for her liking. Legolas and Gimli began staring at her, peering at her face, and touching her hair. She slapped at the hands.  
  
"Of course I'm Steph, you morons! He's Boromir too, and yes, we're back!"  
  
This was all the proof Aragorn needed. Needless to say, even with the truth, it was hard to comprehend.  
  
"It is impossible!" cried Gimli, searching Boromir's face for any trace of a lie, "I cut the boughs for your funeral raft! I put your fallen enemies' weapons at your feet! You were dead!"  
  
Boromir smiled half-heartedly. "I have been awoken from death."  
  
"How can this be?" Aragorn asked, running his fingers over the ribbon, "What happened after we...disposed of you?"  
  
Boromir took the ribbon from Aragorn. "I would be all too pleased to tell you my tale, but it would be much better with a meal. Steph and I have lived on meager rations these days..."  
  
Aragorn understood immediately, sending the other warriors back to find some food for the weary travelers. He clapped Boromir on the back as the small group headed back to camp.  
  
"I am glad to see you alive again, Boromir."  
  
Boromir started to say that he was glad to be alive, but thought better of it. He wasn't really glad to be alive, in truth. He settled on a nod and a smile.  
  
Steph followed all of them, feeling irritable and unhappy. Riding along the plains following someone was good for her. No killing, no getting chased, no fear...and now she was riding into battle. As pissed off as she had been that he had tried to leave her in Edoras, she would have rather been there than getting killed.  
  
Why was Boromir so determined to bring her along? When he left her, it was as if it would take a pack of Nazgul to get him to bring her along. Now it was like it would take a pack of Nazgul to get him to leave her. Men were so crazy.  
  
Steph crossed her arms, a frown pulling at her mouth. "Guys piss me off."  
  
-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-  
  
Naturally, the hobbits were surprised to see the two. Merry had declared that Steph look too thin and sickly, and set off to find some extra bread or something to get her up to standards. Steph had always interested the hobbits, as it seemed like a hard thing to quarrel with a man who could easily pick them up and cart them through the snows of Caradhras.  
  
Steph was in no mood to talk, but instead of telling them so, she decided to suck it up and have a bit of a chat. It was interrupted numerous times though, because beside her Boromir was telling their tale, and he kept telling it wrong.  
  
After correcting 'but Lady Stephanie had' to 'but Steph had, you assclown, get it right!' she had gotten rid of the hobbits, who had hobbit-y business to attend to. She didn't really care what they were doing, so long as it didn't involve her, and when they left, she enjoyed the peace.  
  
It was then that she noticed the old man smoking a pipe. He had a grey cloak drawn about him, though every time he moved slightly, a sparkling white robe could be seen beneath it. She figured that he was probably Gandalf, and she frowned at him when his stares did not falter. 'He looks like a mind reader or something,' she thought to herself, hoping that next time he decided to bathe in bleach it would burn his eyes or something. But, having the short attention span she had, she was soon bored again, listening to Boromir drone on and on.  
  
Boromir was having a good time, and for the first time in a long time, he enjoyed being alive. Seeing that Steph was bored out of her mind, he sent her to bed, and she happily obliged.  
  
Once Steph was asleep, Aragorn gave Boromir a long, unreadable look. He had been alternating between long, serious conversation with Gandalf and then light hearted ones with Boromir. When Boromir finished retelling the part of his journey Aragorn had missed, Aragorn sighed heavily.  
  
"Why did you bring Steph along?"  
  
Boromir was taken aback. He had forgotten about the question he knew would come eventually. "Well," he said quietly, stroking his small beard in thought, "she appeared on top of my dead body. I had no other choice..."  
  
Legolas cocked his head to one side. "You could have killed her. Then she would not have been such a burden."  
  
"Or you could have left her in Edoras." Aragorn said, "Why were you so foolish as to bring her along, Boromir? Surely you had a reason."  
  
Boromir bit his lower lip, uneasiness settling on him. He had left out the part above trying to leave her in Edoras. "I tried."  
  
"You tried?" the three others chorused.  
  
"Yes, I left her under the care of Éowyn and rode towards Helm's Deep by myself."  
  
Gimli grunted. "What was the problem then?"  
  
Boromir took a deep breath. "There is a voice. The...being, I suppose, that brought me back. It speaks to me."  
  
The three leaned closer, interested. "What does it say?" Legolas questioned.  
  
"It often speaks to me, though only in riddles. In fact, it spoke to me after you saw me Aragorn. Everything seemed to pause. I touched your frozen face as it spoke to me."  
  
The three exchanged glances. "What does this have to with leaving the girl in Edoras?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"The arrows...they came back." Boromir looked at their startled faces, feeling very foolish, like a child being laughed at by adults for a silly misunderstanding. It was hard enough for him to believe it, and he doubted that others would.  
  
"Did the voice speak to you?"  
  
"Yes, it said that we are bound, Steph and I, and leaving her would..." he faltered. It almost felt that saying it would kill him in itself.  
  
"Yes?" the three prompted, hanging on his words.  
  
Boromir took a deep breath. "It will result in my death." 


	12. Cruel Lessons

A/N: Ai, I have totally pulled a J.K. Rowling, haven't I? Sorry everyone, school ends next week, so I've been rushing around trying to get in last minute grades and sucking up to the teachers whose classes I'm failing (which is amazingly only two, lol). With this said, I'm only going to be updating once every week for the next 3 weeks or so, or at least until school dies and I'm free for the summer. I'll be on vacation the week after school ends, so I'll be mulling over our dear characters. Thank-you for being so faithful with this fic and for reviewing as much as you have. We're almost to 200! WOW!  
  
I've been really inspired by the beach (a small trip there last weekend has caused this) and by the beauty of Savannah (and the prospective tour guide job in one of the old houses here), so I've got about 3 plot bunnies bouncing around me. Don't worry! As tempting as it is to lay aside Why Us and get to work on my new ideas, I will not abandon our beloved pair.  
  
As always, thank-you for reading and reviewing. ^_^  
  
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Disclaimer: Steph belongs to me, so keep your paws to yourself. However, feel free to put your paws on Boromir, as he belongs to Tolkien. He's not my problem.  
  
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**Chapter 12**  
  
Boromir fidgeted during the uncomfortable silence that followed. All three had stern looks on their faces, concentration plain in their faces. Aragorn spoke first.  
  
"Are you sure of this?" he asked, his voice flat and serious.  
  
"Of course!" Boromir exclaimed, angry that he was being doubted, "I believe death is more to my understanding than yours!"  
  
Aragorn sighed, his face blank and unreadable. "Perhaps if you were to cut her off...as you would a limb that afflicts you..."  
  
Boromir narrowed his eyes. "Are you suggesting that I rid myself of Steph?" It did not occur to him that he had once had the same idea.  
  
Aragorn hesitated, regretting his words. "Yes. It would be difficult, but perhaps it would be for the best."  
  
"Have you been deaf to everything I have said?" Boromir said angrily, "If she dies, then I will die too!"  
  
"You said that if you left her, you would die. You said nothing of-" Legolas pointed out, his face calm, even in the heated moment.  
  
Boromir slammed both fists on his thighs. "I am well aware of what I have said! But I will not jeopardize my life or needlessly slaughter Stephanie! I will not take unnecessary chances, having realized the fragility of mortal life."  
  
Aragorn held up his hand. "Peace Boromir! We meant you no offence."  
  
Boromir bit his lip, trying to relax. "You are right. Fighting is not what we need."  
  
"Save your strength for battle, son of Gondor." Said Aragorn, a smile tugging at his mouth. "You are weary. Go and rest."  
  
Boromir sighed but did not argue. After saying goodnight, he sat next to Steph, feeling the need to protect the one whose life was bound to his. After a while, he fell asleep.  
  
The familiar blackness swirled around him as he drifted into a deeper sleep. It wasn't long before the voice was whispering in his ear.  
  
"Hello again, Boromir of Gondor."  
  
The blackness held a bitter chill, and Boromir was soon shivering. His teeth began to chatter as he spoke. "Hello Unseen One."  
  
"Ah," said the voice, "a fitting name." It laughed, and the sound echoed off the unseen walls until it sounded as if there were many people around. It died down into a soft hum, and silenced.  
  
"It is so cold in here." Boromir stated, wrapping his arms around himself, "It is cold as..." he faltered, his eyes widening.  
  
"As death?" the voice prompted. "Yes, very much like death. You are not unfamiliar to the cold of death, are you Boromir?"  
  
Boromir feebly shook his head. "But why..."  
  
The Unseen One cut him off again. "You wish to know why? Did I not explain to you the importance of listening, not just hearing?"  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?" Boromir snapped.  
  
"I am merely giving you a taste, son of Gondor." A light opened up out of the darkness, illuminating a still figure on the ground. The light danced off the blonde hair that was strewn across her face.  
  
"Steph!" Boromir cried, running to her and scooping her into his arms. She was colder than he was, as though she had been lying on the ground for a long time. He was relieved to feel the her breath against his arm.  
  
"Why have you done this to her?" he cried, holding her to him.  
  
The Unseen One sighed impatiently. "She is fine. But this is the answer to the questions you voiced tonight."  
  
He snorted. "I voiced no questions, Riddle Master. What do you speak of?"  
  
"Ah! Another fitting name!" the Unseen One chuckled, "You may not have voiced them verbally, but I hear your thoughts as I hear your voice. There are no differences between the two."  
  
"I am still confused." Boromir said, a puzzled look on his face.  
  
The Unseen One sighed. "Your lack of understanding is uncanny, son of Gondor. I will leave you to find the answers between the riddles. Remember; hearing is not the same as listening. This is not the last we will meet, this I promi-"  
  
With a loud crack, light blinded him, and he found himself being jolted awake by Aragorn. His head was spinning from being ripped away from the Unseen One, and he grunted in pain as Aragorn touched his forehead. He felt a weight lifted from his arms, and his vision cleared enough to register Legolas pulling Steph away.  
  
He blinked stupidly at Aragorn. "What has happened?"  
  
"The hobbit, Pippin has gone with Gandalf to Minas Tirith." Boromir stirred at the last words, beautiful images of his childhood home flooding his mind. How he had longed for it in the long, grueling days! He started to speak, but Aragorn spoke again.  
  
"Shortly before, a Nazgul passed over. After Gandalf departed, you cried out in your sleep, and we were aware of your absence. You were writhing as if in pain with Lady Steph in your arms. Both of you were stone cold..." he faltered, looking into Boromir's grey eyes for an explanation.  
  
Boromir dropped his voice to a whisper. "The Unseen One...it spoke to me again." He shivered at the memory, and quickly recapped it in a hushed tone to three members of the company. After brushing his ice cold hand against his flushed face, he was suddenly aware of Steph.  
  
She was propped up against the rock, her face twisted as if in pain. Boromir took her ice-cold hands in his before tapping her lightly on the cheeks. Her eyes fluttered open before she collapsed in a flood of tears.  
  
"What is that thing?" she sobbed, clutching Boromir's hand. "I've never been so freaking scared in my life! It said it knew you and that our lives were bound and-Oh Boromir!" she clutched him again, shivering from fear and cold.  
  
Boromir cast a startled look at the surprised Fellowship before drawing Steph to him. "It is the Unseen One, as I have recently dubbed it, and it speaks to me often. I do not believe it would hurt either of us."  
  
"I felt like I was dead!" Steph continued, heedless of Boromir's soothing words, "I could hear your voice far off, and then someone picking me up, but it just kept talking to me...like it knew me! Oh God, it was so scary!"  
  
He patted her tangled blonde hair, wondering why the Unseen One had decided to speak with Steph. Steph sniffled loudly, wiping the tears off her cheeks. She hated to cry.  
  
"All it did was talk in riddles! It was obnoxious!" she said, her old fire pushing her fright and shock to the side. "And I bet that it's the bastard that brought me back a second time!" her cheeks went slightly pink in anger. "That bastard! I'd like to beat the crap outta him!"  
  
Boromir stopped his comforting, as she was obviously over the ordeal. She could switch emotions faster than any woman he had ever known, and he found it amusing.  
  
"I am glad to see your humor restored. I will leave you to compose yourself on your own, as I can no longer be of service." A smirk played on his lips, which he flashed at her before turning back to the Fellowship.  
  
"I apologize for the inconvenience the Unseen One has caused. We must depart soon, I expect. What are our plans?"  
  
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Well, the voice finally has a name. I apologize, I know this is kind of short. Thanks for reading, and please review! I'll see you all next Monday! ^_^ 


	13. Return to Edoras

A/N: Hullo everyone! Thanks for being so patient! This is my last week of school, though I'm going on vacation next week, so updates will still be slow. After all that though, it'll be like old times. I have a collection of scraps of paper sitting in front of me because I keep getting ideas, and as school is almost out, I have no paper. It looks really funny, but they're the most important pieces of paper I have. I've already had to dig 4 of them out of the trash…

I'm sorry if this chapters seems kind of slow. I'm writing/planning a romance on the side (it'll be out after WU is finished) and I've been reading Gone With the Wind. I recently finished it, and it's become my new favorite book (Return of the King used to be it). Read it if you get the chance, it's very good.

I'll shush before I start rambling… 

Enjoy!

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Disclaimer: Steph is mine, Boromir is Tolkien's. Now, go out and celebrate this exciting information.

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Chapter 13 – Return to Edoras 

Aragorn blinked in surprise. He found it odd that Boromir was already so composed after the emotional ordeal. He waved it off. He wouldn't put much past Boromir now; he HAD come back from the dead after all.

Before he could speak, Boromir spoke again. "Gandalf has gone to Minas Tirith, has he not?" Boromir's face lit up. If the company would follow him to Minas Tirith as he had so often suggested while he was still alive, he could help them. Helping made him feel stronger, and he was beginning to believe that it had something to do with the reason he was sent back. He would have to ask the Unseen One the next chance he got. As the familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach that came from being useful hit him, he smiled. They must go to Minas Tirith, even if he and Steph had to drag them there.

"Yes. Gandalf took the hobbit Pippin and the pair left for Minas Tirith."

"Then we must follow them! Haste-"

Aragorn interrupted him. "We have already discussed it. We will make for Edoras as soon as possible. There-"

Boromir tuned out the rest. Edoras? The fools! They should go to Minas Tirith! They could gain the council of his father and prepare for battle. 

Words of protest leapt to his lips, but he forced them down. He couldn't disagree with Aragorn. He had pledged his allegiance to him before his death. Wasn't his goal to redeem himself? His death had been a burden to the Fellowship, and he didn't intend to do the same now that he had a second chance at life. 

After waking up Steph for the 2nd time, Boromir quickly packed their few belongings and mounted the horse. They were pressed for time, and he was not going to slow them down. As usual, Steph needed help mounting the horse, but they were soon on their way, riding hard through the darkness. Twenty-five horses there were, with Boromir and Steph riding behind Aragorn.

Suddenly, a rider from the back of the group rode forward to tell them of a group of horsemen behind them. "They are overtaking us." said the Rider, looking nervously behind him, "They are riding hard."

At once the company halted, and the clang of swords being drawn and spears being seized was loud in the still air. Boromir dismounted, shoving Steph off in the process. She landed in a most ungraceful position, and shot him a death glare. She would have screamed at him, but the eerie calm in the air silenced her.

Boromir stood in front of her, protecting his life source. He knew he should probably stand beside the king, but Steph was more important. He was protecting two lives, and those two were more important that Théoden's.

Steph peeked around Boromir, trying to see over the tall men in front of her. The hobbit, Merry, was staring ahead, summoning every speck of bravery in him. Steph caught his eye and winked. _Poor guy, _she thought, _At least I've got Boromir. _She wondered for a moment why having Boromir would make anyone feel safe, but her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hooves and dark shapes upon horses. Steph shivered.

"Halt! Halt! Who rides in Rohan?" cried Éomer, when they were some 50 paces away.

The pounding of hooves stopped as the riders came to a halt. One of them dismounted, and his footsteps could be heard as he came closer. He held his hand up in a sign of peace, though none of the men loosened their hold on their weapons.

Suddenly, he stopped. "Rohan, did you say? That is a glad word. We seek that land in haste from long afar."

Éomer nodded slowly. "You have found it. But it is the realm of Théoden the King. None ride here, save by his leave. Who are you? And what is your haste?"

"Halbarad Dunadan, Ranger of the North. We seek Aragorn son of Ararthorn, and we heard he was in Rohan."

Aragorn rushed forward and embraced the man, greeting him. Boromir raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Everything was silent…

He could have kicked himself. The Unseen One, of course! He face went pink in frustration. What did it want this time?

"I want nothing, Boromir of Gondor." The voice was in his ear, though the blackness was not around him.

He tried to answer. But his throat seemed constricted, and all that came out was a muffled gurgle. 

"Fool," said the Unseen One, "I told you, your voice and thoughts are the same. Think your answer. I will not allow you to make my presence known by speaking aloud to me. Enough people know of me, much to my irritation."

__

"My apologies Unseen One. What is it that you want?"

"I was curious to know what your plans are, Boromir." It drawled lazily.

__

"Plans?" thought Boromir, raising an eyebrow, "_I was going to accompany Aragorn, wherever he leads me, I suppose."_

"Leads _us._" Corrected the Unseen One, "You are forgetting Steph. It was hard to choose your life source, and I do not want her life taken lightly. It could almost be called parasitic the way…never mind. Do not-"

__

"What do you mean?" interrupted Boromir, _"Chose her? Parasitic? Explain yourself Unseen One, you speak in riddles." _

The Unseen One sighed. "I do not have time to explain myself. There will be other times. Farewell, son of Gondor…"

The sounds came back suddenly, and he angrily shook his head. The Unseen One never explained itself. Boromir turned to Steph, nudging her arm to get her attention.

"What has happened?" he asked, rubbing his temples to banish the headache that was forming.

"Some guy Aragorn knows popped up. He brought thirty guys with him, and Elrond's sons. They men are called the Dunedan, I think…" she trailed off, scratching the back of her neck in thought. "They're coming with us, but I couldn't hear all of what they said."

Boromir thanked her and turned his grey eyes to Aragorn. He was wary of the strangers, but he would keep quiet. Perhaps he could question Aragorn later. Curse the Unseen One for keeping him from such an important conversation!

The cry went up to start again. "Bah!" he grumbled, spurring the horse onward.

They rode swiftly, and soon Steph and Boromir were pink cheeked from riding. The company halted that night at the Hornburg. Boromir loved riding, and he felt energetic, as if pure energy ran through his veins instead of blood. Steph, on the other hand looked pale and drawn, worse than he had ever seen her. 

She almost fell off the horse when Boromir helped her off, making him feel even more worried.

"Steph?" he asked, holding her by the shoulders, "Are you ill?"

Defiantly, she wrenched out of his grasp. "I'm fine, I just feel a little tired. Probably from riding that damn horse all day. Geez, don't start fussing over me." 

Boromir wasn't convinced. "Perhaps you should go to sleep." He offered.

"Daggummit," Steph argued, putting a hand on her hip, "I'm fine! I'm just tired and hungry! Nothing to get worked up over!"

With a snort, he turned away, busying himself with looking for a bit of bread. She was impossible!

"This looks familiar." She remarked, looking around her. It was early in the morning, the sun already up.

Boromir turned back to her. "Of course it does. We are near Helm's Deep." He frowned the ungraceful position in which she was sitting. "Sit up, Steph." He ordered, "You are no man."

Steph snorted and threw a rock at his head. "Shut up. I can sit however I want."

His eyebrows knitting together irritably, he picked up the rock and threw it back, hitting her on the leg. "I believe I told you to sit up."

Both eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow, you actually threw one back!" She teased, throwing another rock at his head. When she hit the target, she grinned and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'm fine, you old bat. There's nothing wrong with the way I'm sitting."

A rock sailed past her. "Missed!" she gloated, grinning triumphantly. 

Boromir glared at her. "Sit as you will! I am in no mood for your foolishness!" 

Steph watched him as he stalked away. Shrugging, she settled back against a rock for a nap. "He's a horrible loser."

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	14. Demands and Uncertainties

A/N: Darn. I had hoped the Unseen One's subtle hints would have been enough, but that's ok. If you haven't figured it out already, don't worry. All will be explained in due time. Thanks for reading and being so patient! I'm working on a romance fic (I've finished 3 chapters), so that's been taking up a lot of my time. School is finally out, so I have much more time to write. ^_^

Thank-you so much for the reviews! It's what keeps me going, and it's great to have such nice reviewers! Keep em coming!

In case you hadn't noticed, this story contains ROTK spoilers. I forgot to mention that earlier (better late than never). Sorry!

And now, on with the fic!

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Disclaimer: If you think I'm Tolkien, GET YOUR HEAD CHECKED.

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Chapter 14 – Demands and Uncertainties 

Boromir was still worried about her, despite his irritation. Steph was a fighter, he knew that. She hated showing weakness, and many times when it was obvious she wanted to rest, she would snap at him and shoulder the load once more.

But it was something different this time. She wasn't just tired. She looked drained, almost older. Even her voice seemed to have lost a bit of its youthfulness. On the other hand, he felt rejuvenated; better than he had ever felt. He felt like a young man again.

The Unseen One's words echoed through his head. _It could almost be called parasitic the way…never mind._

What had it meant by that? Oh, he wished he had asked sooner! Or at least demanded that it stay and explain. He clenched his hands into fists and sat down on the ground. A curse upon the Unseen One! It was nothing but trouble, the way it mocked him and kept him guessing all the time. Where once it had been his savior, it was now his enemy. He trusted something that he could not see, something that could bring about his downfall and Steph's.

Ignoring the Rohirrim around him, he leapt to his feet to yell curses at the Unseen One. Almost immediately, the arrow wounds burned painfully, forcing him to his knees.

"Unseen One!" he called out, his voice strained with pain, "I wish to speak with you!" He had never called the Unseen One to him, as it came when it wanted.

There was a still silence as the people around paused to look at him. Ignoring it, he called again. "Do not ignore me, Unseen One! I demand that you speak with me!"

There was a strong gust of wind and then its voice was in his head. 

"You demand to see me Boromir? This is a new idea."

Boromir grimaced at the air. "I am glad you have come."

It sighed tiredly, as though Boromir was wasting its time. "I will not apologize for the arrow wounds Boromir. I abhor being shouted at."

"I wish to know your true intentions! So far you have told me nothing, and put my life and another's in danger!"

There was a long eerie pause. "Your words are not wisely chosen." It said quietly, "I explain what I will and if I choose not to, it is my decision and not yours. You would do well to remember who brought you back to redeem yourself."

"And I rue the hour in which I listened to your forked tongue, Unseen One! I should have touched the light and found peace in death!"

The Unseen One snorted. "Peace in death? Then you are more of a fool than I thought! Your anguished heart would have tormented you for all eternity." Its voice became gentler, like that of a soothing mother. "I gave you new life, Boromir. To redeem yourself, to find peace after death once your goal in this life was fufilled."

Boromir was pacing now, wiping the beading sweat off his forehead, heedless of the confused stares of the onlookers. "And Steph? Why have you brought her back as well?"

"All will be explained in due time, my little parasite. Follow my instructions, and all will go well."

He sighed, his troubled mind still uneasy. "Stephanie. What ails her? She is not herself." 

The unseen shoulders shrugged. "Simply the aftereffects, son of Gondor."

Boromir started to demand that it explain itself, but the wind rushed past him again and the Unseen One was gone. There were quite a bit of people staring at him now, whispering amongst themselves. 

Still heavy with unanswered questions, he returned to Steph. He still had to protect her. 

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Some time later, Steph and Boromir were back on the horse, riding to Edoras. Boromir was troubled by this decision. He liked being near his own land. Steph looked up from watching the ground speed past them. Absentmindedly, she poked his face.

"What's up with you? You look like you just sucked on a lemon."

He scowled at her. "Be silent. I am thinking."

Steph frowned back. "What is up with you lately? You're acting…weird."

"As are you."

"How am I acting weird?" she demanded, pushing her windblown hair out of her eyes.

"I told you to be silent, did I not?"

Steph let out an exasperated sigh. "Dumbass, you're always telling me to do something and I _rarely _do it. You'd think that after all these years of knowing me you'd get it through your head."

"Be quiet."

"You."

"I was being quiet, you fool."

"You're talking aren't you?"

He was silent. This was going to go on forever. 

Steph grinned. "Silence. The worst comeback. I win! 20 points!"

He sent her a dark look over his shoulder and returned to his thoughts. He had been listening to some of the conversations earlier. They wanted to go through the Paths of the Dead. Involuntarily, he shivered. Images flooded his mind. He had been dead once, and he had the sinking feeling that the dead inside would be able to tell. He did not want to be taken back when he had come so far.

"What're you thinking about?" Steph asked in an annoying singsong voice.

"That is none of your concern."

Steph sighed. "You are such an assclown. Tell me. Maybe I could give you some good advice."

He laughed. "I doubt that."

"Oh, tell me! I can help, Borry-mere!" She batted her lashes at him, grinning.

He rolled his eyes, something he'd picked up from her. "Do not refer to me as 'Borry-mere'. It is insulting."

"Whatever you say Borry-mere. What're you thinking about?"

"Steph, do you know what the Paths of the Dead are?"

She shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Explain."

"They wish to travel through them, and it worries me."

Steph raised an eyebrow, suddenly serious. "Because you were dead once."

"Yes."

"Bor, what's the problem? I mean, you've got to have a reason that you think that being dead before would be bad for you in there."

He frowned, his mind full of dark thoughts. "I do."

"And it is…?" she prompted.

"Galadriel sent me no message."

Steph racked her brain. Who was Galadriel again? "Is she the elf lady in white? The queen person from Lothlauren or something? What's so great about her?"

Boromir swallowed hard to keep himself from shouting at her. "Galadriel is ruler of _Lothlorien._ She is very powerful and wise."

"And you wanted a message from her…why?"

"She sent word to Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli. But none for me."

Steph frowned in thought. "What about hobbit dude? Merry?"

"He received none."

"So what's the problem then? He didn't get one either!"

"You do not understand! Galadriel sees much. If I was sent no word, then perhaps I am not even alive, but merely a shadow, as a wisp of my former self! Surely she would have some advice for the future Steward of Gondor!"

She patted his shoulder. "Dude, chill. Let's take the ego trip down a notch. Maybe she just didn't have anything to say."

He was not comforted by her words. "I will ask the Unseen One."

Steph started to ask why he needed the Unseen One's council, but decided not to. "Where are we going?"

Boromir snorted at her bad memory. "Edoras. I told you that."

"I thought you already figured out that I have the attention span of a sandwich."

"Of a what?"

She whacked him in the arm. "Sandwich, you moron."

A few moments later, he hit her back. "Be quiet."

Steph rubbed her arm, sending her a death glare. "You have the reflexes of a dead cow, Boromir."

"What do you mean?"

"It took you like 4 minutes to hit me back!" she whacked him on the shoulder. "That's minus 10 points for you."

He didn't bother to ask what he had lost 10 points for, because Steph soon explained her 'Insult Game'. She was in the lead, of course, and Boromir was losing horribly. 

"Your score is pitiful." She pronounced as they reached Meduseld.

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Thanks so much for reading! Please review! ^_^


	15. Thin

A/N: Hullo all! Thank-you for the great reviews! It was really great to get all of them. I really appreciate them, and without you, I couldn't have written this!

Anyway, on to answering questions…or rather, question.

Samus: No, my romance is not out yet, and won't be until after WU is finished, maybe later depending on how soon I can get it finished. It's taken a lot of planning, as I'd rather write it all first and then post it. If you're interested, I'd be happy to e-mail you when it is posted. ^_^

If any of you have any questions or comments, please don't hesitate to e-mail me. My e-mail address can be found on my author's page. I'd love to hear from you!

As always, thanks for reading!

Enednilwen*

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Disclaimer: I only own Steph, the Ultimate Grievance of Boromir. 

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Chapter 15- Thin

Steph was less than happy to see Edoras again, as her last experiences there were less than pleasant. She was in an ill mood, though she passed it off as PMS. Still, something told her it wasn't just PMS that made her feel different. She felt tired and drained, and it made her irritable to see Boromir acting so spunky and high spirited. "He must be happy to alive." She concluded as she stared into the distance. 

Boromir was muttering to himself, making gestures to an invisible person. She raised an eyebrow. The 'Unseen One' was a mystery to her. It was beyond her understanding, and she liked it that way. It was horribly confusing every time Boromir tried to explain it to her, and it just made her feel even more tired to try and puzzle it out. After all, ignorance was bliss.

He was pacing now, his eyebrows pulled together in a deep scowl. Frankly, it was kind of weird to watch him argue with an invisible person, and it wasn't the first time Steph had questioned his sanity. Boromir stopped abruptly when he saw Steph watching him. Quickly, he walked over to her.

"How are you?" he asked, an anxious note in his voice.

Steph raised a brow. "Fine…" she said slowly, wondering what he was up to.

"You look tired."

"Wow, you're a smart one." Steph snorted, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Are we going to stay here long?"

He shrugged. "We shall stay here tonight and break our fast tomorrow."

She nodded slowly. Éowyn and the men had discussed their plans while they ate, but Steph had barely listened. Strangely, her appetite was gone, and she only ate when Boromir bullied her into it. She couldn't seem to concentrate, and only learned of the plans after Boromir explained them to her. Boromir had been fussing over her more than usual, and when she pecked at her meal, his meddling increased tenfold. Her nerves were already thin enough, and it was only a matter of time before she snapped. Restraining herself, she tried to get him to go away.

"Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Fellowship, Borry-mere?" she asked, examining her nails. 

He shook his head, fighting the urge to tell her he despised nicknames. "I fear our path leads us another way."

Steph narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you talking about?" she demanded suspiciously, "You're not going to screw up for both of us or anything, are you?" 

"No," he snapped back, irritated by her tone, "it is the right decision."

"That invisible person told you to do something and you're not going to do it, are you?" 

Boromir frowned. "That is none of your concern."

"Like hell it is! It's my life too, you assclown, and I'm not going to get killed by Mr. Invisibility because you're a moron!"

"It is called the Unseen One, and you have no right to question my-"

She stood up, putting a hand on one hip. "First of all, _you _call it the Unseen One. I'll call it whatever the hell I want! Second, I do too have the right to question you, I'm an American citizen, damnit, and I-"

"Enough!" Boromir shouted, making several people look. "I do not care if you are a citizen of American, I am the future Steward of Gondor, and you are my prisoner and responsibility. You will do as I say!"

Steph glared at him. "It's _America_, you zombie, and I'm not your prisoner. I don't have to do anything you say if it's going to get me killed." She started to sit down, but he caught her by the elbow and pulled her upright, determined to make her listen.

"Don't touch me!" she cried, struggling to get out of his strong grip. He frowned, noticing for the first time how thin she had become.

"Stop writhing!" he commanded sharply, and she obeyed, surprised by his tone. He quickly rolled up the sleeve of her jacket to the elbow, examining her thin arm. "You've grown so thin…" he murmured, now inspected her thin fingers. "Why did you keep silent about this?" he demanded.

Steph wrenched her arm from his grasp. "You can't expect me to be chubby and roly poly when I'm in this world, can you? I lost weight last time I was here too, you know."

"You were not so thin." He studied her face, his grey eyes clouding with worry. 

"You worry too much." Steph snapped, sitting down on the ground. "Go away. I'm going to sleep."

Boromir frowned. "You are always tired, are you not?"

"Go away." She grumbled, turning a bony shoulder to him.

Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer from her, he walked away, sitting where he could study her from afar. _"Unseen One!" _he thought, _"I must speak with you!"_

He called three times, but the Unseen One did not come. He supposed it was busy. It was indeed…

"Stephanie."

The voice was in her head. "Wassup Invisible Dude?" Steph said back, trying to keep the quaver of fear out of her voice. Humor had always been a defense mechanism for her.

"I see you are well."

"If you could call it that."

The Unseen One laughed. "You are tired, it seems. I suspect you could attribute that to the parasite."

Steph raised an eyebrow. "The parasite?"

"Boromir has told you nothing?"

She shook her head. "How odd." The Unseen One commented, "You should learn to control your temper, Stephanie. Givers can be very fragile." 

Steph raised an eyebrow. This thing was absolutely crazy. "I have no idea what you just said. What are you talking about, parasites and Givers? Does this have anything to do-"

The Unseen One cut her off. "Farewell Stephanie." It said curtly, before removing its presence from her. She stared at the wall in disbelief, trying to collect her thoughts. A disembodied voice just talked to her. And she called it 'Dude'. It had also thoroughly confused her. Rolling her eyes at the insanity of it all, she tried to sleep.

"Damn." She muttered, "I forgot to beat it up."

Steph woke a few hours after she fell asleep. Boromir had moved to her side, watching her sleep. He was obviously plotting. 

"That is so creepy." Steph whispered, hoping he could see her death glare in the pale moonlight.

He looked surprised to see her awake. "What?"

"You watching me sleep, and then muttering on top of that."

Boromir wrinkled his nose at her, a thing he did when he was irritated. Steph had seen it a lot. "I was planning."

"You're _always _planning. What is it this time?"

"I must follow Aragorn or Théoden. I am unsure of the best path."

Steph pulled her knees to her chest. "I can't help you there. Think it over, then pick the best."

He sighed. "I feared you would say that."

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Sorry for the cliffy, but I need to do a bit of planning. I know the chapters have been slow paced, and I apologize. I keep changing my mind about the inevitable journey to Gondor, so I've been putting it off. This week I'll come to a final conclusion. Thanks so much for reading!

Enednilwen*


	16. Mistakes

A/N: Thanks for being patient. I know it's been taking me forever, but there were some major plot twists that had to be worked out and Fanfiction.net wouldn't let me upload it! This chapter was ready Monday!! .

Why Us will be ending soon, probably the next three or four chapters (maybe more), depending on how I decide to go with this. As I'm having some trouble with plot bunnies, I haven't really been thinking of any new LOTR fanfics. My muse seems to be on vacation. I'm also having problems working out my romance, because I'm only using the author's world, but all the characters are mine. It's really annoying, because I'm not sure if I'd be making a major faux pas by doing such. Anyway, that's enough rambling for one author's note. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

Enednilwen*

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Disclaimer: I only own Steph, but Boromir and all the other LOTR chars are Tolkien's. Happy day!

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Chapter 16- Mistakes

It was still dark when Boromir and Steph departed with Aragorn and his company. Boromir had debated through much of the night about who he should go with, and though his gut told him Théoden, his allegiance to Aragorn was the deciding factor. Steph seemed better the next morning; she had purposely tripped him when he walked by her. Then she had laughed loudly and pointed. Indeed, Steph was feeling better. 

The entire company was silent as the rode to Dimholt, and Boromir noticed that Steph's grip around his waist tightened as they rode under the black trees. Finally, they found an opening at the mountain's base.

Boromir shivered involuntarily at the sight of a single stone in their path. It was like a huge finger of doom, and the nagging feeling that he'd made the wrong choice by following Aragorn was back. Following the others' example, he tried to spur the horse onward. Every horse refused to move, and the riders were forced to dismount and lead them around it. Steph tumbled ungracefully into Boromir's arms when she was helped down, and she shot him at least six death glares in the process.

"This is exactly why I hate horses." She grumbled, once she was safely on the ground. "Not worth a damn thing."

The two walked slowly and quietly toward a huge wall of rock. There, the Dark Door gaped before them. Signs and figures were carved above its wide arch, though they were too dim to see. If he hadn't been so afraid, he might have liked to go and inspect them.

Boromir could feel Steph shaking in fear, and he noticed that her face had gone ghostly pale. She grabbed one of his arms and held it close.

"I don't want to go in there." She whispered.

Boromir felt a surge of courage, though at the same moment, her noticed Steph's eyes widen even more in terror. He tried to give her a warm smile, though she did not return it. 

"Stop trying to be brave, please." She said quietly, "It's like you suck out the last of my courage."

Boromir frowned at he. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind." She forced a soft laugh. "It's a stupid thing to say…must be lack of sleep or something…"

Halbarad, one of the Dunedain, spoke. "This is an evil door, and my death lies beyond it. I will dare to pass it nonetheless; but no horse will enter."

"But we must go in, and therefore the horses must go too." said Aragorn. "For if ever we come through this darkness, many leagues lie beyond, and every hour that is lost there will bring the triumph of Sauron nearer. Follow me!"

At once, the company began to follow, though Steph's feet felt like lead. "Boromir," she whispered, "I really don't think we should go in there…"

The man of Gondor nodded, remembering the previous night's conversation. Would the ghosts know?

The men ahead were moving into the cavern, though the two stayed where they were. Boromir was the first to start to move. "Do not be afraid. We must go in."

Steph pulled back, clapping her hand to her mouth. "I understand now, what the Unseen One meant!" she pulled on his arm, making him look at her. "Boromir, I understand it, and if we go in there now, you'll take the last of my courage and resistance. I can't go in there without dying Boromir, and without me, you'll die too!"

Shocked by her words, he seized her by the shoulders and shook her. "How do you know this?" he demanded, "How long have you known?"

Her face was still fearful, and Boromir wasn't sure if it was because she was afraid of the Paths of the Dead or him. He released her and waited for an answer. 

"I d-don't know." She stammered, nervously tucking hair behind her ears, "It j-just kind of came to m-me."

Boromir sighed as he heard the last of the company die away. "I will heed your counsel Steph. I only hope that you are right."

She nodded furiously. "I know it. We can't go in there. We'll die. I can just…feel it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Feel it? I am not sure if your 'feelings' are reliable."

Steph glared at him. "They are, you assclown. Don't make me kick you."

"I would never dream of doing such a thing." He said sarcastically, helping Steph to mount the horse. He took one last look at entrance. "You are sure?"

"Positive."

Boromir sighed as they started to ride away. All his careful plans were being scattered, all because of a 'feeling' Steph had about the Paths of the Dead. But, she was his life source, and he felt obligated to believe her. But was obligation a good enough reason?

He didn't want to think about it. Steph soon broke his thoughts. "Borry-mere?"

"What?" he snapped back, irritated by the nickname.

"Where are we going?" asked Steph as she examined the calluses and dirt on her hands.

"Gondor."

Steph raised an eyebrow. "Gondor?" she snorted, wrinkling her nose, "Why there?"

Boromir rolled his eyes at her. "It is where we were to go in the first place." He said in an irritated tone, "Where would you have us go, All Knowing One?"

She bristled at his mocking words. "Oh stuff it, asshole." She snarled back, "I just wasn't thinking."

"Have you ever?"

"Shut up!" she growled, glaring at his back. She crossed her arms over her chest, not wanting to hold onto him anymore.

Boromir looked over his shoulder at her. "You should hold on, Steph. You will surely fall off if you do not."

"Like I care." 

"If you fall off the horse, you will most certainly be injured. Then, I will have to stop and tend to your wounds, which will be a great annoyance to both of us."

Steph pantomimed shooting him in the back of the head.

"Maybe I'd fall off and get unconscious. Then I wouldn't have to smell you anymore. You smell like a barn." She grumbled, trying to set his head on fire with her hate energy.

"Be silent, wench, and hold onto me. As I said, I do not want you to fall off."

"Shove it." Said Steph, holding onto the saddle instead, trying not to fall off the horse. She knew that holding onto Boromir was a better idea, but she wasn't going to give him the pleasure of thinking that he had been able to persuade him. A defiant look on her face, she ignored his irritated sighs.

"Steph, I will not ask again. Hold onto me, or I will make you. I do not have time to tend your wounds because you decided to be stubborn." said Boromir, a note of warning in his words.

Steph gave him a defiant glare.

Without warning, he halted the horse. Quickly, he unlaced the thick leather string that laced his tunic. He turned and roughly seized Steph's hands, pulled them around his middle and tied them in front of him. Steph had been pulled forward when he took her hands, and her hair was flopped over her face. She tossed her head to try and get it out of her eyes.

Boromir took it for struggling. "Do not try anything, Steph." He said, his words almost triumphant, "You refused to comply with my wishes, and you have suffered the consequences."

"Shut the hell up, you bastard!" Steph snarled furiously, "My hair is my face and I can't see anything! Could you please move it or something?"

Boromir thought for a moment. He shook his head, spurring the horse onward. "No, I do not think so."

"Why the hell not?" Steph cried, outraged.

"You are better off this way."

Steph moaned in defeat. "You're horrible! I hate you!"


	17. We Must Reach Gondor

A/N: I have been a HORRIBLE authoress! I am so sorry everyone!! I apologize profusely, I feel horrible. ^-^; If any of you would like me to e-mail you when the next chapter is up, please tell me in your review. ^___^

By the way, thanks to Ginniliel for recognizing me in a street side restaurant! She and her family were vacationing in my city, and she overheard me telling my mom about my ideas for this chapter. She just kind of rushed up and asked if I was Enednilwen. It was really weird, but still cool. ^__^ 

On to the chapter (FINALLY!)!

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Disclaimer: I only own Steph, Boromir belongs to Tolkien.

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**_Chapter 17-We Must Reach Gondor_**

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Boromir found that it was much easier to concentrate on retracing their steps when Steph was quiet. He considered gagging her, but he couldn't think of anything he could do it with. So, fixing a look of extreme displeasure on his face, he tried to ignore her threats, pleas, and protests. She fell silent for a while, but when they paused for a moment, she found an opportunity to start again.

"Hey, Sadistic One." Steph's forehead connected with one of his shoulder blades. 

Wincing slightly, he evaded a second attack. "What?"

"Where are we going?"

Boromir rolled his eyes as he began to untie Steph's hands. "We will follow the Rohirrim." He said, brushing her hands away. "I believe the lesson has been learned, you are free to do as you wish with your hands." 

Steph shot him a death glare. "Why are we following them?"

"Are you really that stupid, Steph?" he snapped, digging his heels into the horse's sides to get it moving.

"I only asked a question!"

"A foolish question!"

"How was it a foolish question, assclown?" Steph demanded, not realizing she was holding onto Boromir's waist again.

"It was a foolish question because you and your _feelings _kept us from following Aragorn and the others, whom I have sworn my allegiance to! You, of all people, should know exactly why we are following the Rohirrim!" Steph opened her mouth in protest, but Boromir cut her off, "Be silent, woman! I will not listen to your idiotic attempts at trying to explain yourself! You have been foolish enough for one day!"

Steph stared at the passing vegetation, sulking. Geez, all she did was forget one stupid little thing. Boromir shouldn't have gotten so mad over it! Suddenly, a thought hit her. What had happened earlier was a major deal. Why _had _she forgotten it? Speaking of why, why were her joints feeling so creaky today? What was she? An old woman?

Rolling her eyes at herself and her crazy imagination, she tried to think about something else. Absentmindedly, she scratched her nose. It felt…leathery?

Steph whipped her hand in front of her face to inspect it. This was too weird. Her hand had felt leathery, like an old woman's! Almost afraid to look, she stared at her hand. Indeed, her left hand was wrinkled and rough, the skin on the back of her hand sagging. She inspected her right one, eyes widening with fear. Her right hand was still smooth and young looking, the skin stretched tight across it like always. 

Putting them next to each other, her eyes and mouth rounded into fearful O's. She couldn't help it. She screamed.

She screamed so loudly that Boromir jumped in his seat and halted the horse. He whirled around, looking wildly around for the source of the problem.

"What?" he demanded, "What is it?"

Steph was frantically wiping her left hand on her jeans, breathing hard and fast. "My hand!" she shrieked, clutching her right hand to her chest, as though she thought the left one would contaminate it.

"Obviously, your hand is the cause of your…" he surveyed her, his tone becoming mocking as he tried to place the verb he was looking for, "…discomfort. What is wrong with your hand, then?"

Keeping her hands at least 6 inches apart from each other, she held them in front of Boromir. Looking skeptical, he examined them.

A perplexed look came over his face. "What…what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" wailed Steph, looking terrified, "My hands are all…deflicted!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Deflicted?" 

"It sounded good at the moment, assclown! Something's wrong with my hands!"

Boromir shook his head, still staring at her hands. "There is nothing wrong with them, Steph." He said calmly, "Your hand is returning to normal."

Steph looked with shock, as her left hand seemed to turn to liquid. When she reached to touch it, Boromir quickly caught her hand is his own.

"Do not touch it, woman."

The liquid hand quivered for a moment, before it turned to a solid hand, exactly the way it had always been. Steph gingerly poked it with her right hand.

"I don't understand," she whispered, "It's back to normal…"

Boromir gave her left hand a dark look. "Gondor has excellent healers, Steph. I am sure they will be able to heal you."

A voice broke through the silence of the land. It seemed very far away. "Have the pains of age been inflicted upon the two of you before your time?"

Both Steph and Boromir cast menacing looks at the air. "I see the Unseen One has returned to torment us." Boromir growled.

"Ah," said the Unseen One, "I see that I am correct. Why are you so bitter, Boromir? Would you prefer to be left to wither in the land of the living?"

"What do you mean?" said Boromir, his hand going instinctively to his sword.

"You should know by now that you survive in the land of the living only by the gracious contributions of Steph and her energy. As the days go by, you take more and more of her soul and her youthful energy."

Steph was glaring holes in Boromir's head. "So this is your fault? EVERYTHING BAD THAT HAPPENS IS ALWAYS YOUR FAULT, YOU ASSCLOWN!"

"I did not give you this information so you could bicker twice as often." The Unseen One said sharply, "Your time is running short. Boromir, your time in the land of the living is not an indefinite length."

Boromir's face had become rather pallid. "How long do I have, Unseen One?"

"That I cannot tell you. Use your time wisely. I hear your thoughts Boromir. You will time for such things, this I promise you."

Steph opened her mouth to voice her question, though the Unseen One answered her before she could speak a single word. "Yes, Stephanie, that is true also. I promise you."

A wind swept past them, signaling that the Unseen One's presence was gone.

"What was your question?" Steph and Boromir asked each other in unison.

A long uncomfortable silence followed, and neither answered. Boromir sighed heavily and spurred the horse onward.

"We must reach Gondor as quickly as possible."

A/N: Yes, it was a filler and not too good, but my great aunt died and I haven't really been thinking about this Why Us. I'm starting the next chapter tomorrow, so it'll be out quickly. ^___^

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!!


	18. Daily Quarrels

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I loved reading them! ^___^

Sorry about how Chapter 17 came out. I didn't mean for it to be so…stretched. I'm not sure what I did to it. *shrug*

Only two people asked to be notified if WU is updated, so this is just a reminder that if you would like to be notified, please send me an e-mail at Enednilwen@aol.com or tell me in your review. Thanks. ^__^

I got the idea for this chapter while I was listening to the LOTR DVD while I worked on another story (yes, I listen to DVDs, I'm so weird). It was perfected after a short walk around the house with my trusty tape recorder. Long live tape recorders!

Anyway, on to the chapter! Yay!

En*

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Disclaimer: I only own Steph, the Ultimate Grievance of Boromir.

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Chapter 18- Daily Quarrels 

The wind whipped loose strands of Steph's hair into her face as the two rode on, their speed much increased by Boromir's need to get to Gondor faster. Steph looked mournfully at the sky and sighed heavily, wishing she were anywhere but there. She would have given anything to be back home, even back in school, stealing Sara's paper and smirking as Sara hissed under her breath that Steph was going to get caught one day for chewing gum in class, sounding more and more like an old woman with each word.

She shivered involuntarily at the last thought. Old woman. The antics of the Unseen One had left her shaken, though she was trying her best to hide it. Boromir had been acting oddly ever since that conversation, and she didn't want to make it worse by transforming him into a complete lunatic.

Her thoughts turned to Boromir, and his words; _"Gondor has excellent healers, Steph. I am sure they will be able to heal you."_

For the first time, Steph felt almost glad that Boromir was there with her. He was all she had in this cold, unfamiliar, and dangerous world. No matter what she did, she would have to grudgingly admit that without Boromir, she would be dead.

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But of course, she reminded herself, _without me, Boromir would be dead too. _It was beginning to make sense to her, why she had come back. She was completely defenseless, and though she hated to say it, ignorant of the ways of Middle Earth. She could never leave Boromir, because she was so dependent on him. She was the perfect life support. Without realizing it, she had rested her head on his back, with an almost content look on her face.

Even through the whistling wind, she could hear Boromir grumbling to himself. She rolled her eyes.

"What are you bitching about now?" she asked.

"It is none of your concern." He snarled over his shoulder. Steph looked slightly taken aback.

"Well whatever it is, you don't have to take it out on me. I was just asking a question, assclown."

He sneered at her. "I care not for your sympathies, woman."

She mimicked his sneer. "I care not for your attitude."

"Be silent!"

"You!"

"I am trying to think, and you are intruding!"

"I really could care less!"

"Silence!"

"QUIT BITCHING AT ME!"

Even without the increased roaring of the wind, the two had to shout to be heard at talking level while riding the horse. Now bickering, the wind was almost unnoticeable compared to the noise they were making.

With an irritated sigh, Boromir brought his voice down to a shout instead of the roar he had been using.

"Give me a moment of peace, woman! Let me collect my thoughts!"

Steph was still making more noise than necessary. "Then tell me what you're grumbling about!"

Boromir did not answer her.

When they stopped for the night, Boromir began grumbling to himself more. After watching him intently for a few minutes, Steph threw a nearby rock at him and once again demanded to know what he was grumbling about.

"If I tell you, will you leave me to my thoughts and be silent?" he asked, sighing tiredly.

She agreed.

"I can only think, that if the foolish hobbit had only given the ring to Gondor, as I had suggested, perhaps things would not have happened in this way."

Steph raised an eyebrow at him. She studied him for a moment, before throwing another rock at him. "Haven't you learned _anything?"_

He glared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Hmm, let's see…" she said, looking upwards in mock contemplation, "Could it have anything to do with the fact that you wouldn't be dead in the first place if it weren't for that thought?"

His glare still held. "I think that you know nothing of what you speak of."

"And I think that you just don't want to admit I'm right."

"Right?" he sneered, "You believe yourself to be right? What kind of fool are you? If the halfling had taken my counsel, and gone to Minas Tirith as I said, my father, the Steward of Gondor, could have used it against the servants of Morgoth!"

Steph scowled at him. "So this is what it was all about then? You only wanted to see glory for your father and yourself! You're obsessed with making yourself look good!"

Boromir leap to his feet in rage, looking more frightening than Steph had ever seen him. "My principle concern has always been and will always be Gondor." He said clearly and menacingly, his eyes narrowing to slits, "Do not be so quick to judge me."

Steph stared at him for a moment, frightened of what he might do next. Convinced that he was finished, she stood to face him. "I'm sorry for saying what I did," she said slowly, her blue green eyes never leaving his grey ones, "but I'm not going to lie to you and pretend you're not being a moron. Frodo was right to do what he did with the Ring, and had he listened to you, Sauron would have already won."

Loathing was in his eyes. "I feel the Halfling will be the doom of us all." He muttered.

"Well you shouldn't worry about that, by the time we've won, you'll probably be dead." She smirked at her wit, before Boromir's words sunk in. "What do you mean, he'll be the doom of us all?"

"A dream I had, the dream that caused me to seek the council of Elrond Half Elven."

Steph's interest was captured. "What was it?"

"The eastern sky grew dark, and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered and out of it I heard a voice, crying:

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Seek for the Sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall be counsels taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near at hand,

For Isildur's Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling forth shall stand."

"It didn't say anything about Minas Tirith. I think it means the doom of Middle Earth." She said slowly, scratching her neck thoughtfully.

Boromir scowled. "Aragorn said the same."

Steph shrugged, not comprehending. 

"I believe it predicts that the Halfling will be the doom of our world."

She rolled her eyes. "You're being crazy. Everything's going the way it should."

"The Ring of Power is better as a weapon in the hands of Gondor, not destroyed by a Halfling!" Boromir snarled, his hands forming into fists.

"It would be taken eventually!" Steph snapped, irritated by his thick headedness. "Do you happen to remember the events that led up to your death?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "You tried to take the Ring from Frodo, he ran away, and realizing your mistake, you rushed off to protect Merry and Pippin, later getting yourself killed. Did you ever think that _someone _was trying to tell you something? Like, _you're supposed to destroy the Ring? _Did you ever stop and think that the reason you were sent back was to redeem yourself for your stupidity, not fall right back into your old mindset?" 

Boromir scowled, but raised his eyes to meet hers. "Your words are well chosen. Perhaps you are right." Turning his back to her, he scanned the horizon. "Go to sleep. You will need your strength for the road ahead."

Sighing irritably, Steph went to sleep. "I really hope he listens to me…"

"Steph, get up." Boromir's sharp tone cut through her dream. 

She blinked in the darkness. "It's still dark. The Sun's not even up yet." She put her arms over her head. "Go away. Five more minutes."

"The Sun is indeed up." He snapped, nudging her none too gently with his foot, "Though by some evil it is hidden."

He cast a dark look at the sky, hidden by a dark cloud, from which small amounts of light leaked through. "This can not be a good sign." He muttered to Steph as he mounted the horse.

Steph looked fearfully at the sky with a feeling of foreboding. Her sleepiness was gone, replaced with an unknown fear.

"We must make haste." Said Boromir as she clumsily mounted the horse after him, "I feel no good will come of this day."

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A/N: Just to let you know, the dream Boromir described is Tolkien's, and you can find it on page 276 of The Fellowship of the Ring.


	19. Losing Hope

A/N: As always, thank-you for the wonderful reviews! 

I commented on some of your reviews, you can find them at the bottom.

En*

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Disclaimer: Boromir belongs to Tolkien, I only own Steph.

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Chapter 19-Losing Hope

Boromir halted the horse, scanning the plains for any sign of the Rohirrim he was following. Trying to hide the look of annoyance on his face, he busied himself with tearing off a bit of cloth from his tunic and wrapping it around his hand. When he awoke from death, he found that his gauntlet was gone, and he had been forced to go without. Blisters had formed on his hand from the riding they had been doing, and it was becoming too painful to ignore.

"We're lost, aren't we?" Steph muttered, looking through him.

"We are not lost." Boromir snapped, "I am unsure of the way."

Steph snorted. "What's the difference?"

"Gondor is my home, Steph. I am not lost."

She rolled her eyes. "Then why are we following the Rohirrim?"

Not waiting for a response, she slid off the horse and sat on the ground. "I'm taking a break."

Boromir shot her an irritated look. "We do not have the time for this."

"Oh yes we do. You're lost."

Glaring at her, he dismounted. "Fine. We will rest." 

The sky was still darkened by the cloud, but Boromir could make out Steph's face. It was drawn and haggard, with the look one carries when they have no hope.

She sighed, drawing her knees to her chest. "Why are we even following them? We're just going to end up dead. There's no point. It's suicide."

"We are following them," Boromir said tiredly, as he was tired of this question, "because it is the reason I was sent back here. I am here again to redeem myself, to help them win this war."

Steph frowned at him. "Then just kill me. Cause all I want to do is go home, and because that's totally impossible, it's pointless for me to go on this suicide mission."

Rolling his eyes, he tossed her a piece of bread. "I am not going to kill you. I already told you this."

Half-heartedly, Steph chewed the stale bread, occasionally glaring at Boromir. "Then just leave me here."

"I cannot do that either."

She finished the last bite. "Why not?"

He searched his brain for an excuse, still afraid of telling her the true reason. "That is not of your concern." he said brilliantly, "Now get up."

When she did not, he seized the back of her T-shirt and pulled her up, pushing her towards the horse.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going you stupid bastard."

"You should be thankful that I have kept my sword from connecting with your neck, Steph." Said Boromir, mounting the horse.

He extended a hand to the blonde, pulling her up as well.

She wrinkled her nose at him as they started to ride again. "Geez, what do you do every morning, wash yourself in Eau de Wet Dog?"

Snapping at her to be quiet, he noticed hoof prints on the ground. "You see?" he said, a smug look on his face, "I was not lost."

"Sure."

"Can we stop?"

Boromir sighed. It was the 14th time she had asked this. "No."

"Please?"

"No."

"But it's dark!"

"It has been dark for three days!"

"Well it's darker than usual, you assclown, which means it's night!"

Boromir couldn't argue with her. It was becoming too dark to see, and the last thing he needed was to have to retrace their steps. 

"Thank God!" Steph exclaimed as he halted the horse, falling of the horse in her excitement. 

Boromir laughed, something that he hadn't done in a while. Dismounting, he offered Steph a hand up, pleased to see a grin spread across her face.

"I really hope you're pleased with yourself, Boromir." She said, "Now my butt hurts even more than we I was riding that damn horse."

Stilling smiling, he busied himself with preparing for the next day while Steph sat down on the ground, making lines in the dirt.

"Question!" she said, not looking up.

"Yes?"

"You didn't answer me earlier, Borry-mere."

"And I refuse to answer now, if you continue to refer to me by such a detestable name."

Steph crossed her arms. "Fine. Why are we following the Rohirrim if Gondor is your home?"

Boromir stopped, giving her an irritated look. "I know my way in Gondor, though death seems to have slightly dulled my memory."

Steph smirked. "Do you remember my name?" she said slowly and loudly as if speaking to a deaf person.

"I did not say that it dulled my hearing, Steph." snapped Boromir.

"Yeah, sure. I suppose it also dulled your common sense too."

"What do you mean?"

Steph shrugged, now drawing a person in the sand. "That conversation we had a few days ago." She waited for his reaction; the conversation had not been spoken of.

"Are you saying that I was wrong?"

She shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "I'm saying that you're being stupid to start thinking like that again. It's what got you killed, isn't it?"

"Dying was not the consequence of attempting to take the Ring from Frodo." He said quietly. Steph thought she caught a glimpse of the vein in his forehead.

"Well, if you hadn't been with Frodo, the hobbits wouldn't have run off to find him, and you wouldn't have had to protect them! Aragorn could have died instead, or Legolas!"

"I was destined to die, Steph!" Boromir shouted, "Because I was the only one who had a suitable life support that I could draw energy from when I was reborn! I have come back to help them, and if I had not died, I would have been in the way. It was all meant to be!"

Steph was quiet for a minute, thinking. "Why am I your life support? Why not Faramir?"

Boromir snorted. "Faramir does not need me the way you do. He would have left my side much too soon."

"Left your side…" Steph gave him a suspicious look. "There's a reason you came back for me after you left me in Eddy's Rash, wasn't there?"

"It's _Edoras, _Steph, and I-"

"Something happens when I'm not with you, doesn't it?" She jumped to her feet. "Tell me!" 

Boromir looked away from her. "Go to sleep. Gondor is near, and we will have to ride hard to get there."

Steph continued, unphased. "Tell me!"

"Get something to eat, then go to sleep."

"Tell me!!"

"Fine!" Boromir roared, jumping to his feet, "I begin to die! The arrows reappear in my body and I begin to die! That is why you are the life support, because you are dependent, and because you will not leave me!"

Steph looked shocked. "You begin to die? Without me?"

"Yes." Said Boromir, searching for something to eat in his bag.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He sighed. "I feared you would use it against me."

She snorted. "Come on. I may be Steph, but I'm not _that _evil and sadistic." She paused. "Am I?"

Smirking, he shrugged. "One can never be sure."

A/N: Yay, we're almost to Gondor! Anyway, leafgirl's review made me think. I never really had a favorite LOTR character (except maybe Éowyn), but after writing these fics, Boromir has become it. By being my favorite char, it makes me notice things that he does throughout the book. I always thought that his death was part of his predetermined destiny, because if he hadn't died, I can think of quite a few complications that would have arisen throughout the story. Of course, my views on why he died are different for Why Us, because he is alive again. I know that was a little confusing, but I just thought I'd mention it. 

I got quite a few reviews that I felt I should answer or comment on. If I didn't comment on yours, please don't be offended, I just didn't feel that anything needed to be said about it. Thanks for the reviews, all of you!**  
  
KittleKat798**- I speak very little Elvish. I do 45 minutes a day, but obviously, I haven't improved much. I've been studying with the book _The Languages of Tolkien's Middle Earth_, by Ruth S. Noel. It breaks everything down, so it's easy to learn. ^___^ Thanks for the compliment, I'm a stickler for the facts, and even though WY was slightly AU, I strove to make WU perfect. It takes me about 3 hours to write a chapter, because I stop between pages to read a chapter in the books. My Enya CD will play three times before I through...  
  
**leafgirl**- Thanks for your review, I hadn't thought of that. I didn't mean to portray it like that, and I hope that this chapter will clear it up a bit. I thought Boromir should still be angry, because as I read through FOTR, I thought that Boromir had done a lot for the Fellowship (the movie really doesn't do him justice!) and even though he was slightly obsessed, he was obsessed with _saving Gondor_, and wanted to do all he could for it. *grin* I am such a Boromir fangirl.  
  
**Samus-** It was known as the Dawnless Day. I would cite the page for you, but I seem to have misplaced my copy of ROTK, and the last time anyone saw it, I had left it outside...  
  
**Ginniliel- **Yay! I was glad that someone noticed that!   
  
**Crimson Starlight- **Yeah, I wouldn't either. I'm glad you recognized the Dawnless Day, by the way.  
  
**Merrlyn**- Ai, I love your reviews, and your e-mails! Oh, and please don't attack any Enednilwen look-a-likes, I don't plan on vacationing outside of Georgia anytime soon. ^____^


	20. Snapping and Sarcasm

Disclaimer: If you think I'm Tolkien, get your head checked.

**__**

Chapter 20- Snapping and Sarcasm

Steph was sulking, Boromir could tell. She hadn't said much to him all day, except a long string of curses when she tripped over a rock. However, he decided that it was going to be a good day, because his name had not been included in the string of curses. Indeed, today would be a good day.

Still, a feeling of foreboding hung in the air, and Boromir did not attempt to make conversation with the sulking female. He rarely did anyway, and he laughed aloud at the thought. _He _trying to engage _Steph _in conversation? 

"What are you laughing about?" she snarled, looking up from staring at the holes in her jeans.

"I was simply laughing at the thought of trying to have a civil conversation with one such as you."

"One such as me?" she repeated, her brow furrowing, "I should kick you for that."

"It would make no difference, dear Steph, as you threaten me daily."

Steph raised an eyebrow. "Geez, someone's chipper today. What are you taking?"

He didn't answer; it sounded like a loaded question.

"I'm hungry."

"Be quiet."

She sighed irritably. "From this point forward, I'm holding you responsible for all the discomfort I experience on this trip."

Boromir snorted. "And if you die?"

"Well, I suppose it won't matter then."

"Then let us forbid that such a thing should happen to such a fair tempered maiden!" Boromir said sarcastically, scanning the darkening horizon for any familiar signs.

"Oh, you're a bucket of laughs!" retorted Steph, "You know there are only 3 things I hate more than you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Horses, the Unseen One, Middle Earth in general, and you."

"That is four, and you already named me."

Steph scowled at him through the dark. "Oh shut up, assclown."

His good mood kept him from snapping back, and he spurred the horse onward, recognizing the way.

"We should come upon them soon."

Steph rolled her eyes. "And what, pray tell, will we find when we meet them?"

Boromir looked upward in thought. He hadn't thought of that. "I suppose we shall follow them into battle."

"Battle?" choked Steph, before regaining her composure and thwacking him on the back of the head. "No one said anything about battles!"

"It was to be expected, woman." Snapped Boromir, who could feel his good mood ebbing away as the conversation progressed.

"I'm going to die!" moaned Steph.

Boromir snorted. "Perhaps that would be for the better. Innumerable are the times you have begged for death while on this journey." 

"But I don't _really _want to die! What would I do if I die?"

"Then you would not be able to hold me responsible for your discomfort." He said nastily.

"Augh! I didn't mean it! I don't want to die!" Steph wailed, thwacking Boromir in the process to make herself feel better. 

"Of course you don't." said Boromir, in mock sympathy. 

"Don't patronize me, you assclown." Steph snarled.

No more was said, and they journeyed on, both in dark moods.

Shouted words and the _clang _of sword against shield caught their attention. 

"The Éored!" shouted Boromir, unsheathing his sword. "They are near!" Faintly, Boromir could smell smoke on the wind. He could feel the color drain from his face. Gondor was so near, and it was almost certain that the smoke was from Gondor. Gondor…Gondor was burning! He had to protect his people!

Steph tugged on his sleeve. "Are we close?"

When he said that they were, Steph started to whimper. "Please, Boromir. Please don't go. I don't want to go into battle…"  


Boromir whirled around to face her. "Do not say such things! My country is in peril, and your cowardice will not deter me from defending it!"

Steph was too afraid to react to his insult. "I don't want to die!" she said, her voice trembling. 

Boromir glared at her. "I would rather slay you now and use your last bit of dying energy to defend Gondor than hide in the hills with you and spare you from battle." He nodded at the long knife in the scabbard at her side. The belt was sliding down her hips, as usual, almost to the point of falling off. "Tighten your belt, Steph, and unsheathe your weapon. We are riding to battle."

She didn't move. "Do as I say!" he snarled, his voice so menacing that Steph didn't protest.

"This battle will save Middle Earth." Said Boromir, spurring the horse toward the Éored, "I am ready to kill and die to see that Middle Earth is saved." He sent her a cold look over his shoulder. "I am even willing to sacrifice others."

Taking a deep breath, Steph gripped the long knife with both hands, her knuckles turning white in an effort to get her hands to stop shaking. She was Boromir's life source, and she wasn't going to let herself die. Even if she had to hide behind Boromir the entire time, she wasn't going to let Boromir fail again.

The smells and sounds of horses told them they were advancing on the Éored. The smell of smoke and death hung in the air, and Steph involuntarily shivered.

"Do not fear, Steph." Said Boromir, his voice surprisingly empty of fear, "If your fate is to meet your end here, at least you will die a noble death." Seeing that this did not seem to ease her fears, he turned and forced a smile, despite his irritation toward her. "Stay near me, and if you are attacked, swing your blade upwards, not down."

A/N: Please don't kill me, I know it's short! I wanted this chapter to be slightly comical, and when I read ahead in ROTK, I realized that the battle was next (it crept up on me!). I wasn't really ready to write the battle scene yet (roughly translated this means that I hadn't walked around the house with a tape recorder, doing Steph and Boromir's conversations and actions), so I decided to wait until next week to post it. No worries, it'll be good! ^___^

Thanks for reading and reviewing! We're 3 reviews away from 300! Yay!!!

Til next week-

Enednilwen*


	21. Blood

Author's Note: In case you haven't already noticed (if you haven't, then I would guess that you can't read) this fic contains spoilers for RotK. Just a warning. ^__^ Thanks for the spiffy reviews, by the way. 300! Yay!

Disclaimer: I only own Steph. Boromir belongs to Tolkien.

**__**

Chapter 21-Blood

Boromir could see that the Éored were a few leagues from him. As he drew closer, Minas Tirith also came into view. He gasped in horror. His beloved city had fallen, and he was too late. Rage overcame him and every fiber of his being wanted to fall to the ground, weeping bitterly and crying out in anguish. Time seemed to move very slowly.

As he began to feel as though he could not stand one more moment of looking upon the broken city, he felt a change. Far off, a light was glimmering. Clouds were drifting in the South, and morning was beyond them.

A flash, almost like lightening, seared through the sky, and for a second it stood dazzling far off in black and white. Boromir could see Théoden, who moments before had looked bent and defeated, spring up. His strong voice carried on the wind, and Boromir felt hope. Reaching into a bag at his waist, he withdrew something that he had forgotten about for quite a while.

A blue ribbon. 

"Hopefully," he said, tying it around his index finger, "it will bring us luck in the coming battle." He smiled at Steph.

"Hopefully." She managed with a weak, lopsided smile.

Boromir caught the last of Théoden's words.

"-Ride now, ride now! Ride to Gondor!" Théoden blew his great horn, and Boromir frowned as he remembered the loss of the Horn of Gondor. These feelings were quickly replaced with as the horns of Rohan were lifted up like music. Minas Tirith would not fall!

As the host moved forward to battle, morning came upon them and Boromir spurred his own steed onward, riding parallel to meet the Rohirrim. The darkness was moved and the hosts of Mordor cried out in fear as the Rohirrim came upon them. The Northmen burst into song as they slew the enemy, and Boromir laughed aloud, the joy of battle upon him.

Looking ahead, he could see Minas Tirith. He smiled, hoping with all his heart that his father could hear the singing and know that Minas Tirith was saved.

The fighting continued until the city was less than a mile away. Théoden slackened his speed, seeking new foes, and his knights gathering around him as he did so. Boromir stayed where he could still hear. He wasn't sure if Théoden had seen him, and he didn't want to waste time with greetings. 

Steph was pale as she watched the fighting ahead, taking deep, steadying breaths. She had grabbed a fistful of his tunic when they rode into battle, but he hadn't really noticed. He loved battles. Noticing a splash of orc blood on her long knife, he quickly reminded himself to try and keep an eye on her; he wouldn't last long if his life source was killed. 

He sighed. It was going to be hard watching out for two people. But he had to do it. As the oldest child, it was habitual to watch out for himself and another. But in battle? That was going to be tricky.

"I can't believe I lived through that." Steph said, her voice shaky.

Boromir smirked. "You seem to have done well." He said, nodding at her long knife.

"This?" she asked, smirking back, "I was holding it wrong, cut him across the face. But, better than me getting skewered."

Realizing that he had missed what Théoden had said, he scowled. The Rohirrim were now going hither and thither at their will, yet they still had not overthrown the siege, nor won the Gate.

Steph didn't seem to inflict much damage upon the enemy as they made their way through. The most she managed was to leave nasty hack marks (after which Boromir yelled, "It is not an axe, woman!") and gouge out an eye or two ("Decapitate it!"). She was not very good at fighting, she soon found, and settled for letting Boromir do most of the work while she succeeded in irritating the foes with her hacking and cutting moves. After all, if it came to it, she _did _have teeth and nails.

Taking Boromir's advice, she managed to partially decapitate one he had missed, and was grotesquely reminded of Nearly Headless Nick, from the Harry Potter books. She looked away in disgust as it fell to the ground, dead.

No sooner had she done this, the chieftain of the Haradrim shouted aloud upon seeing the banner of the king, and he held aloft his own standard. The Southrons' scimitars resembled stars as they were drawn. The Northmen rode to meet, Boromir shouting a war cry as he went. Steph simply shrieked as she hacked off an arm, scimitar and all. Boromir delivered a quick blow to the neck, laughing as the head rolled away. He seemed to be having fun as he rode through, hewing off arms and heads. Steph was a different story.

"Augh, Boromir! That's disgusting!"

"That is war!"

It was clear that the Northmen were the better fighters, and Boromir grinned as Théoden slew the chieftain and then the bearer of the Haradrim standard. The unslain turned and fled.

However, the morning was suddenly blotted from the sky and dark fell about Théoden. Horses screamed. Men on the ground groveled. Boromir could feel Steph shivering in fear behind him. He too was afraid, but he straightened up, unwilling to show it.

Boromir couldn't hear Théoden anymore, though he could see his lips moving. 

__

"It will not be long now, Boromir…"

The Unseen One was back.

As his hearing returned, he watched in horror as Snowmane, the King's steed, reared and fell on his side, pierced by a black dart, the king beneath him.

A black shadow descended and Boromir caught a glimpse of a monstrous beast before everything went black. He could smell the foul creature, and started to cry out when the Unseen One's voice tore through his head.

For the first time, its voice was harsh and painful, and by the time it had finished, Boromir's ears were ringing.

__

"Fate cannot be changed or avoided, Boromir of Gondor. I do not doubt that you know this." Instinctively, he swung his sword in different directions, hoping to hit the Unseen Annoyance. The Unseen One seemed to ignore him, continuing unphased. _"However, it is possible that the people who Fate inflicts its torture upon receive help. Everything is done for a reason. The time remaining is waning…"_

Boromir regained his sight and hearing, and shook his head to clear the ringing in his ears. It seemed that he had fallen off his horse. The beast he had seen had been slain, its head not far from its body. It was a grotesque beast, and it disgusted him so that he did not look upon it for long. The Rohirrim were not too far away, bearing two bodies, though Boromir did not stop to take a closer look. A new thought had seized him.

Steph. Where was Steph?

Leaping to his feet, he spun in a circle, looking for Steph. He spotted her long knife a few feet from him, and picked it up. She would have been going in that direction, probably dropping it as she went. That sounded like Steph; dropping her only weapon.

He still couldn't find her, though he was sure she was alive. 

'If she was dead, I would be dead.' Boromir thought, 'If she was gone, the arrows would reappear.'

These thoughts did nothing to calm his mind, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his face as he continued to search for her. Panicking, he called her name, running frantically past the dead. Blonde hair caught his eye, but he sadly noted that it was only a member of the Rohirrim. 

Continuing on, a glimpse of rough looking, blue material caught his eye. No one wore clothes like that in _his _world. He ran towards it, anxious to see if it was truly her. He released breath he didn't know he had been holding at the sight of blonde hair. But when he reached the body, his mouth dropped open in horror.

Indeed, it was Steph.

Facedown in a pool of blood.


	22. Death

Disclaimer: Steph is mine, Boromir is Tolkien's. Go us.

**__**

Chapter 22 – Death

Boromir knew it was her. Even from a few feet a way, it was not hard to tell. Steph was sprawled on her face, as though she had tripped and not made an effort to break the fall. It was still odd, as from where he was, he could not see any arrows or stab wounds in her back…at least then her position would make sense.

He hadn't realized that he had stopped. Yet there he was, two feet or so away from her, staring at her body. He was almost afraid to see if she was still alive. If she was, he would have to care for her. If she was dead, as he feared, then her last bit of energy would not sustain him for very long. After a moment's hesitation, he raced to her, dropping to his knees as he reached her side.

Indeed, there were no wounds on her back. She might have been hit in the head, he thought, beginning to panic. Or, she might have been stabbed and then collapsed. But somehow, he doubted both.

Gingerly, her turned her over, and cried out when he noticed her shallow breathing. She was still alive! He called her name, but she did not respond. The pool of blood had been created by an ugly gash in her forehead, and he quickly tore a piece of her shirt to stem the flow.

"Steph, can you hear me?" he asked, trying to pull her into a sitting position. 

Her eyes fluttered open, though they were unfocused. "What is it?" she mumbled, her words slurred.

"What has happened, Steph?" he asked, pulling her around the pool of blood. She was dead weight, and did not object to being pulled like a sack of potatoes.

"You fell off horse," she slurred, feebly batting at his hands, "and I jumped off. I ran after you." She put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. "Got separated, and…stabbed me…back…"

Boromir's face went pale. "I saw no wounds on you, Steph…"

"My back, assclown." She hissed, her eyes coming into focus. "Someone stabbed me."

Seeing that she was now capable of conversation, he tried again. "But you had no wounds on your back, Steph." He insisted, dabbing at the gash.

Steph cried out in pain, clutching her forehead. "I think I would know when someone plunges a sword through my middle, idiot!" she snarled, lifting her shirt to show him. 

Both gasped in surprise. There was no wound, only a long, red scar. Steph gave Boromir a disbelieving look before she made a choking sound and fell over limply, her eyes rolling back into her head.

Boromir started to pull her up when she began to speak. The voice was unearthly, yet strangely familiar.

The Unseen One.

"Did I not tell you the time remaining was waning, Boromir?" asked the Unseen One. 

Boromir reached for Steph's hand. "What have you done to her?" he demanded, his grey eyes flashing.

He flinched at the Unseen One's voice, disgusted by the sound of it coming from Steph's mouth. "I have completed her destiny, Boromir."

"You tried to kill her!"

"Was that not her destiny?"

Boromir glared at the lifeless Steph. "What do you mean?"

"She is your life source, Boromir. As your life source, if the life she serves should call upon her to sacrifice herself, she must do it. She has no other choice."

He stared at Steph's body in horror. "I have never called upon her to sacrifice herself for me!"

"On your journey, you have taken bits of her energy everyday. Combined with what remained of your soul, it kept you alive. But in battle, the remainder of your soul was used, and without it you would die. So, who else to turn to in your time of need than your life source?" Obviously noting the look on Boromir's face, it laughed. "Yes, you fool. You have taken her soul, and therefore condemned her to death."

Boromir drew a long, shuddering breath. "I never meant to kill her."

"Of course not."

He held his head in his hands. "What am I to do?"

"She lived to nourish you and pulse the blood through her veins, Boromir. Surrender to the truth. She is gone. You could do nothing."

Slowly, Boromir held his hand to his neck, feeling his pulse. Then, he reached and felt Steph's neck, feeling the feeble, slow pulse beneath his calloused fingertips.

"Not gone." He growled. "Not yet."

"It will not be long, Son of the Gondor. Both of you will die eventually." It laughed, "Though some faster than others."

He started to snap back when Steph gasped, as if being choked. Clutching her throat, she made frantic hand signals to Boromir, still gasping for air. Boromir reached out to help, though the instant he touched her, she stopped. 

"What the _hell _was that?" she gasped, panting for breath. "Someone was choking me!"

He looked at her gravely. "I do not know, though I fear we will both die today." Ignoring the horrified look on Steph's face, he knelt down and tried to pick her up. "Stand Steph, there is no time to waste."

She attempted to stand, though only managed to fall again. "I can't!" she moaned, clutching his arm for support.

With an annoyed sigh, he lifted her up, ignoring her protests.

"We must find a steed."

While tending to Steph, the battle had been pushed from his mind. Now painfully aware of it, he set Steph on the ground and drew his sword. Their horse could not have been able to get very far. Sure enough, he located it after a bit of searching, and rode it back to where he had left Steph.

She was lying on her back, pretending to be dead. 

"What are you doing?" he snapped. "I thought you had been attacked!"

"I'm protecting myself." She slurred, wincing in pain as she sat up. "You can't kill a dead person."

Rolling his eyes, he carefully lifted her onto the horse, noticing how clammy her skin felt. "Take deeper breaths." He commanded. "You do nothing for yourself with shallow breathing."

"Spoken like a true zombie." She paused to attempt a deep breath. "How do I know if I'm dying?"

"You will know."

It was as he said this that he noticed the black sails on the Anduin. Choking back a cry of surprise, he fumbled with his sword. "The Corsairs of Umbar," he said, the color draining from his face, "Surely, all hope of victory had left us."

"What's so bad about black sails?" asked Steph, her heart now pounding in her ears. 

"There is no time for explanations. Gondor is in need." He dug his heels into the horse, trying his hardest to keep his mind from wandering to every worse case scenario involving himself and Steph. "A curse upon Steph." He snarled under his breath.

He noticed that the horse had stopped moving. Everything had stopped moving. He switched to cursing the Unseen One.

"It will end here, Boromir." 

Boromir quickly dismounted, pulling Steph along with him. "Make your meaning clear, Unseen One." He snarled, "Your presence brings nothing but trouble."

An orb of light danced in front of Boromir's face, and he realized with a start that it was the Unseen One.

"Then I will get right to the point." drawled the Unseen One. "You will have to make a choice. You can protect Steph, or you can protect Gondor."

Slowly, he looked from Steph, who was looking terrified, and then to the fallen and fighting men about him. He sighed deeply.

"It is no choice." 

"What have you decided?" asked the Unseen One, its voice devoid of emotion.

Boromir drew his sword. "My allegiance will always be to Gondor. Though it pains me to do as such, if sacrificing Steph will save Gondor, it is my duty to sacrifice her. My thanks to you Steph for allowing me a second chance to protect my country."

Steph's knees buckled underneath her. She looked up at him from the ground, and though her mind was addled by near death, she felt his words sink in. "Y-you're going to kill me?" she whispered.

"May your soul find peace, Steph. Remember that you served Gondor through your death." Swinging the sword in an arc, he aimed for her neck, hoping that her death was quick and painless.

Too terrified to move, she waited for the blow that was to come. She felt the feel of cold steel against her neck, though she felt nothing else…

Boromir stared in shock as Steph's body disappeared before his eyes. The sword had barely made contact with her neck before she had simply vanished. He started to touch the spot where she had been sitting when the Unseen One flew around his head.

"Go you fool! The deed is done and your time runs short! Defend your country!" 

Mounting his horse, Boromir sped off to meet the enemy, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his side. The arrows were coming back, as he had expected, but he would have to work through it. Trying his best to block the flashbacks of Parth Galen, he fought on.

The ships had been Aragorn, not the Corsairs of Umbar as he had feared. But it mattered not now. He had fought the enemy until he was unable to stand, when the arrows fully returned and he succumbed to crying out in rage and pain. He lay there on the ground, trying to take deeper breaths, as he had instructed Steph to do moments before. He thought he felt someone draw near to him, and silently, he prayed it was Aragorn. The familiar journey to the light was before him now, and the Unseen One was at his side. 

Boromir knew his time with the living was short. He could see the outline of a man standing above him.

He reached for the person. "Please," he whispered, "I wish for my remains to return to Minas Tirith." With these words, he closed his eyes, looking forward to finding the light. Peace had come to Boromir of Gondor at last.

Steph touched the fresh scratch on her neck. Somehow, she had survived it-all of it. Here she was now, in the science chair she had left what seemed like a century ago.

"Oh dear God," she murmured, flexing her hand and feeling more youthful than she ever had in her life, "I can't believe any of that just happened."

She took a deep, shaky breath. "I can't think about this right now." She said to herself, massaging her temples, "This is way too much."

So, in true Steph fashion, she chose not to think about it by thinking up a unique way to get out of the locked science room. She threw a chair through the window and crawled out. Steph stepped around the broken glass, waiting for an alarm to sound. When it didn't she paused, looking over the deserted moonlit streets, and sighed.

"This has been the most ironic day of my life." She said to herself, kicking rocks as she started the long walk home, "Wouldn't you believe it, the assclown kills me, and yet I'm alive." She paused, a smirk creeping onto her lips. "And I get sent back to school! The irony of it all!" 


	23. Author's Note

Hey all,

My most sincere thanks to every single one of you who has stuck with me from the beginning. You can't imagine how much it means to me. The entire Why ?? series has been so much fun to write, and I loved every minute of it. 

This is _not _my last fic. I do plan on writing much more. In fact, I'm starting an original fic, _Claire, _and if you're interested, you can check it out. The link to my fictionpress.com page can be found on my fanfiction.net page. ^^ If you'd like to read my future fanfictions, you can add me to your Author Alert. Yay. 

This is the last Why ?? fic and also my last 'Girl in ME' fic. I received about 6 EM/Ims asking me this. Sorry, but that's just how it's going to go. I've tried and enjoyed it, but it's time to move on to something else.

At the moment, I don't have any ideas for new fanfictions. If any of you have a challenge or something like that, feel free to send it to me. I'd love to get some fresh ideas.

Feel free to instant message or e-mail me. I absolutely love to hear from all of you, and I enjoy answering questions or just chatting. 

So, as this series draws to a close, I thank you all. My reviewers have given me more feedback than I ever deserved, thank-you! Special thanks to Merrylyn, for your hilarious daily e-mails and charming reviews. ^__^

Ciao and thanks a million times,

Enednilwen*

P.S. Because I received 3 IMs raging about how much they hated Boromir within an hour of posting Chapter 22, I felt that I should explain. From what I've read throughout the books, Boromir loved his country more than he loved himself. So it would make sense that he was willing to sacrifice someone so that his country would be saved. I would also like to point out that the Fellowship was a top secret mission to save an entire world, and that if they had to make the choice, they would save the world instead of one person. If the circumstances had been different for Boromir and Steph, I feel that Boromir would have slain Steph as soon as he got the chance. True, she did slow him down, but it was nesessary, and when he started to ride into battle, she was of no more use to him.

I hope that this last chapter won't make you hate Boromir. He's really a great character and though he does have some flaws (his pride, for one) he has other great qualities too (like his loyalty). Ah well, it all ended for the best though, right? ^__^


	24. Take Two

A/N: This was the alternate ending I wrote for a few very disappointed readers. I just found it, so rather than hiding it away I thought I should share it. Yes, it's what you all expected, but hey everyone deserves a cliché ending now and then. ^_^ Now you can decide how you want it all to end.

Enednilwen*

Disclaimer: I only own Steph!

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Boromir knew it was her. Even from a few feet a way, it was not hard to tell. Steph was sprawled on her face, as though she had tripped and not made an effort to break the fall. It was still odd, as from where he was, he could not see any arrows or stab wounds in her back…at least then her position would make sense.

He hadn't realized that he had stopped. Yet there he was, two feet or so away from her, staring at her body. He was almost afraid to see if she was still alive. If she was, he would have to care for her. If she was dead, as he feared, then her last bit of energy would not sustain him for very long. After a moment's hesitation, he raced to her, dropping to his knees as he reached her side.

Indeed, there were no wounds on her back. She might have been hit in the head, he thought, beginning to panic. Or, she might have been stabbed and then collapsed. But somehow, he doubted both.

Gingerly, her turned her over, and cried out when he noticed her shallow breathing. She was still alive! He called her name, but she did not respond. The pool of blood had been created by an ugly gash in her forehead, and he quickly tore a piece of her shirt to stem the flow.

"Steph, can you hear me?" he asked, trying to pull her into a sitting position.

Her eyes fluttered open, though they were unfocused. "What is it?" she mumbled, her words slurred.

"What has happened, Steph?" he asked, pulling her around the pool of blood. She was dead weight, and did not object to being pulled like a sack of potatoes.

"You fell off horse," she slurred, feebly batting at his hands, "and I jumped off. I ran after you." She put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes as a wave of pain washed over her. "Got separated, and…stabbed me…back…"

Boromir's face went pale. "I saw no wounds on you, Steph…"

"My back, assclown." She hissed, her eyes coming into focus. "Someone stabbed me."

Seeing that she was now capable of conversation, he tried again. "But you had no wounds on your back, Steph." He insisted, dabbing at the gash.

Steph cried out in pain, clutching her forehead. "I think I would know when someone plunges a sword through my middle, idiot!" she snarled, lifting her shirt to show him.

Both gasped in surprise. There was no wound, only a long, red scar. Steph gave Boromir a disbelieving look before she made a choking sound and fell over limply, her eyes rolling back into her head.

Boromir started to pull her up when she began to speak. The voice was unearthly, yet strangely familiar.

The Unseen One.

"Did I not tell you the time remaining was waning, Boromir?" asked the Unseen One.

Boromir reached for Steph's hand. "What have you done to her?" he demanded, his grey eyes flashing.

He flinched at the Unseen One's voice, disgusted by the sound of it coming from Steph's mouth. "I have completed her destiny, Boromir."

"You tried to kill her!"

"Was that not her destiny?"

Boromir glared at the lifeless Steph. "What do you mean?"

"She is your life source, Boromir. As your life source, if the life she serves should call upon her to sacrifice herself, she must do it. She has no other choice."

He stared at Steph's body in horror. "I have never called upon her to sacrifice herself for me!"

"On your journey, you have taken bits of her energy everyday. Combined with what remained of your soul, it kept you alive. But in battle, the remainder of your soul was used, and without it you would die. So, who else to turn to in your time of need than your life source?" Obviously noting the look on Boromir's face, it laughed. "Yes, you fool. You have taken her soul, and therefore condemned her to death."

Boromir drew a long, shuddering breath. "I never meant to kill her."

"Of course not."

He held his head in his hands. "What am I to do?"

"She lived to nourish you and pulse the blood through her veins, Boromir. Surrender to the truth. She is gone. You could do nothing."

Slowly, Boromir held his hand to his neck, feeling his pulse. Then, he reached and felt Steph's neck, feeling the feeble, slow pulse beneath his calloused fingertips.

"Not gone." He growled. "Not yet."

"It will not be long, Son of the Gondor. Both of you will die eventually." It laughed, "Though some faster than others."

He started to snap back when Steph gasped, as if being choked. Clutching her throat, she made frantic hand signals to Boromir, still gasping for air. Boromir reached out to help, though the instant he touched her, she stopped.

"What the hell was that?" she gasped, panting for breath. "Someone was choking me!"

He looked at her gravely. "I do not know, though I fear we will both die today." Ignoring the horrified look on Steph's face, he knelt down and tried to pick her up. "Stand Steph, there is no time to waste."

She attempted to stand, though only managed to fall again. "I can't!" she moaned, clutching his arm for support.

With an annoyed sigh, he lifted her up, ignoring her protests.

"We must find a steed."

While tending to Steph, the battle had been pushed from his mind. Now painfully aware of it, he set Steph on the ground and drew his sword. Their horse could not have been able to get very far. Sure enough, he located it after a bit of searching, and rode it back to where he had left Steph.

She was lying on her back, pretending to be dead.

"What are you doing?" he snapped. "I thought you had been attacked!"

"I'm protecting myself." She slurred, wincing in pain as she sat up. "You can't kill a dead person."

Rolling his eyes, he carefully lifted her onto the horse, noticing how clammy her skin felt. "Take deeper breaths." He commanded. "You do nothing for yourself with shallow breathing."

"Spoken like a true zombie." She paused to attempt a deep breath. "How do I know if I'm dying?"

"You will know."

It was as he said this that he noticed the black sails on the Anduin. Choking back a cry of surprise, he fumbled with his sword. "The Corsairs of Umbar," he said, the color draining from his face, "Surely, all hope of victory had left us."

"What's so bad about black sails?" asked Steph, her heart now pounding in her ears.

"There is no time for explanations. Gondor is in need." He dug his heels into the horse, trying his hardest to keep his mind from wandering to every worse case scenario involving himself and Steph. "A curse upon Steph." He snarled under his breath.

He noticed that the horse had stopped moving. Everything had stopped moving. He switched to cursing the Unseen One.

"It will end here, Boromir."

Boromir quickly dismounted, pulling Steph along with him. "Make your meaning clear, Unseen One." He snarled, "Your presence brings nothing but trouble."

An orb of light danced in front of Boromir's face, and he realized with a start that it was the Unseen One.

"Then I will get right to the point." drawled the Unseen One. "You will have to make a choice. You can protect Steph, or you can protect Gondor."

Slowly, he looked from Steph, who was looking terrified, and then to the fallen and fighting men about him. He sighed deeply.

"It is no choice."

"What have you decided?" asked the Unseen One, its voice devoid of emotion.

"I cannot kill Steph, not after everything she has done for me," he replied, and swung his blade through the orb of light. It exploded into glittering shards and disappeared.

"What have you done?" shrieked Steph, "What'll we do now?"

The scene unfroze, back to the chaos of battle. "Stay near me, and we shall soon see!" He looked again to the black sails, but was suddenly struck with wonder. Was that the standard of the White Tree…and Aragorn?

Steph inhaled sharply, "I forgot! Aragorn comes at the end to save the day!"

With a groan Boromir sunk to his knees, clutching his side. "My time is not long here. What do you speak of?"

"Aragorn brought reinforcements. We're going to win! Can't you hang on a little longer?"

He shook his head, inhaling sharply. "If you tell me my city is safe, then I can go in peace. I have fought valiantly and I have protected you…"

Steph crouched down beside him, clutching at his hand, "Your city will be safe…your brother makes it…he was played by a really hot guy in the movie even! Aragorn gets to be king or something…please, Boromir, don't be scared. Don't leave me here!"

He shook his head and clasped her hand. "I am not afraid, I am content. I believe your words and I have hope for my city. Gondor will not fall today! Even now, I cannot feel the arrows. You have freed me, despite everything…I only hope that you find your way, Steph…"

It all happened very fast. As he started to slump over, his face a peaceful mask, Steph felt the same buzzing sensation running through her. With a sound like thunder, she felt herself land on something cool and smooth.

Carefully she opened one eye. The science lab! She was had made it! She scrambled to her feet and looked out the window, greeted with the same boring landscape she had gazed at aimlessly during class. How did she…?

No, she wouldn't think about it. Boromir was safe, she was ALIVE, and that was all that mattered. Hopefully with Boromir in his rightful place he would find peace. And hopefully she would stay in her own world.

She looked around suspiciously, curious in spite of herself. Who had sent her back? Had the Unseen One taken pity on the two of them? Perhaps her charms had won it over? She shook her head and laughed aloud, realizing the magnitude of the situation. She was HOME! Now how was she going to get out of here?

Far away, in a very different world, the king of Gondor knelt over his fallen brother in arms. "Be in peace, my brother," whispered Aragorn, "For all will be well."

Somewhere, on the white shores, a contented Boromir knew it.


End file.
